One Mistake
by Stryder2008
Summary: "Dean Winchester grabbed the Molotov cocktail, the glass was cool in his fingers, and ran full speed toward the open grave. His booted feet were thundering over the..." One mistake and ten years later Dean convinces Sam to come with him to try and find their father. An unforeseen accident places both brothers at natures mercy. NOT SLASH/ Brotherly moments only! HURT!DEAN & HURT!SAM
1. Chapter 1

**_Synopsis:_** When Dean makes _one seemingly innocent _mistake and is permanently injured on a hunt, how will his hunter father and studious little brother handle the changes? Can Dean learn to hunt with a disability? Will his father ever fully really accept this new side of his eldest son? What happens when the boys are thrown into an extremely dangerous situation…can they cope in John's absence and with the new limitations placed on Dean. This story will contain flashbacks that will enlighten the readers of Dean and Sam's past as it pertains to everything about the recovery from this one mistake.

**_Legalities:_** I don't own any characters associated with Supernatural…they belong exclusively to Kripke and the CW network…I only play in their sandbox for my own amusement and yours. I am not making any money from this, it is a guilty pleasure.

This story is both canon and AU based on Dean's disability. I'm on an injured Dean kick right now…so bear with me. **This is NOT a SLASH story; it contains brotherly love, angst, and hurt/comfort only.**

**Chapter One**

_Hazards of playing with Ghosts_

-September 1996-

Dean Winchester grabbed the Molotov cocktail, the glass cool in his fingers and ran full speed toward the open grave. His booted feet were thundering over the soggy rain soaked ground and suddenly slipping as he hit a large patch of mud. His breath was coming in sharp almost painful pants as he tried to keep his calm. The air in front of him puffs of white mist. He'd just watched a seriously pissed off spirit toss his little brother into an open grave and Sam's head hadn't popped up yet. Their father was still at least twenty minutes out and he was scared.

Sam had been trying to distract the spirit while Dean finished salting the body of a very angry hippy. They had been trying to take care of it on their own, hunting the supernatural was kind of 'the family business.' Their father, John Winchester, didn't usually allow the boys to hunt on their own…being that Dean was seventeen and Sam was only thirteen. But with a lot of _talking, _which he was extremely good at; Dean had convinced their father that they could handle one '_hippy-dippy'_ ghost on their own. At least that was what he thought he'd said to the eldest Winchester to get an approval for this lone hunt. Now as he watched the hunt unravel, he wasn't quite so convinced that they were ready for this. Particularly if Sam got hurt as a result of his inability to protect his little brother, which would be a sure sign that they weren't ready.

John had wanted Sam to take a more active role in the hunting aspect of their _education_…something besides the training and the endless drill work that both boys were required to complete on a daily basis. His little brother had whined about the training because it always managed to disrupt his study time…but Sam _did like_ spending time with his older brother, so he had agreed to go on this hunt.

Dean swore as he watched Sam's head suddenly pop up out of the grave, dirt and mud pouring down his teenage face. There was a distinctly bright trail of blood making its way down from a cut somewhere inside the mop Sam called his hair. The brown strands were currently plastered to the Sam's face and he was scowling at Dean as his older brother slid to a halt and reached out to help the boy out of the grave.

"Have I told you lately how much I hate this Dean?" He asked angrily. He accepted the leather clad arm reaching down to help him his dimples absent as he seethed. Sam's eyes were scanning the area behind his brother's back for the reappearance of that damn spirit. He'd figured that it might be a bad idea to go out without their father…but he hadn't imagined that they'd get their asses kicked by the damn ghost.

Dean chuckled. Shaking the water out of his short blonde hair and releasing Sam once he was above ground again. "Yeah…you have. But it's fun, right Sammy?" He said with a laugh as he patted Sam on the back.

"Quit it Dean!" he said through clenched teeth. Normal kids didn't do stuff like this…they don't spend their Friday nights in a cemetery looking for a pissed off hippy ghost that wanted to kill them. Ironically, to stop a war that no longer existed…_and weren't hippy's supposed to be like…anti-war and shit?_ He wonder silently as he shook the mud out his hair and pushed it out of his eyes.

Dean laughed and then held up the soon-to-be flaming bottle of alcohol…he grabbed his lighter and relit the cloth fuse. "Step back Sammy…I don't think this thing is gonna like going up in flames." Dean stepped forward and looked into the grave; the body of the ghost was severely decomposed and like all bodies…it smelled terrible. His gaze landed on some canisters off in the corner of the coffin, but he ignored them and tossed the flaming bottle in. "You're barbeque…you no talent bastard." He said.

The violent reaction of whatever had been in the grave and the flaming cocktail caused an explosion that rocked Sam backwards off his feet and onto his butt. It took a moment for him to shake his head clear after the concussive blast that followed the flaming explosion. He knew he'd been at least fifteen feet further back than his brother…Sam scrambled to his feet. His eyes swinging frantically until he finally noticed Dean's body lying sprawled in a half-hazard humble of limbs next to the grave…unmoving. Dean's face was turned toward the grave. Which meant that Sam couldn't tell just how badly his older brother was injured and that had his heart trip hammering through his chest in fear.

"DEAN!" He cried as he stumbled forward and dropped to his knees, the mud making a squelching sound as his weight settled next to his brother's too-still body. Dean was laying on his stomach his arms thrown out in front of him…almost like he'd been trying to avoid something. Sam's hand shook as he reached down and gently pulled Dean onto his back. A cry of dismay escaped his lips as he got his first good look at his big brother. "Ah…god…no."

The entire front half of Dean's body was covered in blistered and blackened burns, his clothing singed and sticking painfully to the edges. And there were more wounds littering his chest and pushing down toward his thighs…_it had to be where the explosion had hit him in the chest_. Sam's brain told him quickly. But it was the gash on his brother's head that caught Sam's attention. The area around Dean's eyes was burned, like something had splashed up into them…there were already red welts forming and his brother's breathing was thready at best. The wheezing sounds making Sam's stomach turn with bile.

And there was a steady stream of crimson blood leaking from both of his brother's ears. Huge tears burned in Sam's eyes as he stared at the unconscious form of his big brother. The same brother who was normally larger than life and had a way of making Sam feel safe…in this world of monsters, ghosts and demons.

Sam felt his fear climb up out of the pit in his stomach and assault him with the force of molten lava. "Oh God Dean…wake up…please wake up." Sam whispered as tears mixed with the rain and he gently shook his brother's shoulder; his hands shaking as much from the cold as from terror.

"Sammy!? Dean?!" He heard his father's deep voice calling through the bleak darkness of the night like a savior. And he'd never been so happy to hear that gruff drill-sergeant-like voice in his entire life. His eyes lifting from his brother's mangled form to search for his father's form.

"DAD!" Sam cried, his voice breaking with the stress of the situation. He turned slightly looking into the dark area off toward the two lane gravel road, where they'd left the Impala parked. "DAD! Hurry! Dean's hurt."

John Winchester ran through the night like a man possessed. He'd known that letting his boys do this hunt on their own had been a bad idea. But he'd gone against his better judgment when Dean had presented a well thought out argument and the research all seemed to be legitimate; but the hysteria in his youngest son's voice was sending tendrils of fear twisting through his gut. He finally spotted the boys near an open grave that was still burning slightly, illuminating the terrifying image of Sam leaning over the unmoving form of his big brother.

John slipped to his knees and gulped back the rising panic at the first sight of Dean's ruined face. Whatever had happened, it'd been bad…like really bad. The blisters were forming near the corners of his son's eyes and there were burns seared through the layers of shirts he knew his son always wore. But it was the blood dripping steady from both of Dean's ears that really concerned John. He knew that this wasn't something that would just heal on its own…they were headed to a hospital.

"What happened here, Sammy?" He asked as he leaned over to get a closer look at his eldest boy's injuries. John ran his fingers through his son's short blonde hair as he closed his eyes in panic. And then he felt just how thready Dean's pulse really was as his fingers dropped to his son's neck. They were going to have to get the kid to a hospital right the hell now. He reached for his phone and dialed 911, normally he wouldn't call for emergency responders, but this didn't look like something that could wait. Blood in the ears was a really bad sign. John had learned that fun little fact while serving in the Marines…a shudder ran through his body…and he'd never forgotten that lesson.

Sam shook his head, his hair flipping around and catching on his nose. _They were going to have to get the boy to cut that mop pretty soon. _ John thought as he listened and his youngest tried to piece together what had actually happened to his brother. The words were jumbled and John could barely understand the kid as he tried to gulp around the sobs that were slowly erupting from his chest. He reached out and pulled his son against his broad chest, wrapping his arms around the trembling form of his youngest boy.

"It's okay Sammy…he's going to be okay." John wasn't sure if he was trying to convince his son or himself. Sam hugged him back like his life depended on it and John reveled in the feeling of his son in his arms. He always forgot how much he missed his boys when he was gone. He reached out and gently carded his fingers through Dean's wet hair.

Father and son parted when they heard Dean grunt and then a groan of anguish as he came back to full-awareness in one agonizing instant. "Argh…." He cried as he struggled to pull himself up off the ground, his body reacting on instinct rather than knowledge. John reached out and pushed him back into a lying position, carefully avoiding the burns on his chest.

"Dean…son….calm down." Dean didn't show any sign that he'd heard his father. His eyes widened in shock and pain as he struggled to focus through the damage to his eyes. He stared at both of the members of his family. Dean couldn't hear a damn thing…there was absolutely nothing…no sounds at all. He struggled against the hand trying to hold him against the cold wet ground. His blurry vision not giving him much to go on. A small form moved next to the large lump and he focused enough to know it was his father and his brother. He wanted to scream in agony when the realization hit…he was completely deaf.

"Dad…I can't hear…" He finally managed to choke out in a broken voice as he suddenly went limp and passed out again. John stared at his son in dismay…_had Dean really just said that_?

"Dad, did Dean just say he can't hear?" Sam asked in a whisper, he hiccupped and stared up, wide eyed, at his father. His luminous blue-green eyes begging for a reassurance that they both hadn't just heard that confession; sirens wailed in the back ground and John jerked his eyes toward the road. He needed to move Dean away from the open grave…too many questions. He slowly gathered his eldest son in his arms and pulled himself to his feet.

"Sam, grab the gear son." He said as he moved several hundred yards from the burn site. He gently laid his son on the ground, just as the medics rushed up the slippery terrain.

XXXX

_-November 2006-_

Dean wondered if he could make the light…he debated for just an instant on pressing the gas pedal harder and pushing the Impala through the changing traffic signal. He really hated traffic and traffic in California was the worst. He sighed and opted for caution allowing the classic black car to come to a stop as other vehicles blurred by in front of him. For the millionth time he wished he could hear them…the sounds of the strong engines as they whisked by him. He stared at the hearing aids in the seat next to him and frowned. The doctor had said that he should be able to distinguish slight changes in pitch and frequency with them. But the only real difference was that when he had them in…he actually felt _handicapped_. The accident at the cemetery flashed through his head…it did that almost every day…flashed through his head and reminded him of his mistake.

The light finally changed and Dean felt the car roll forward as the feeling of the Impala's massive engine rumbled through his legs. He hated that he couldn't hear her engine anymore…and that he hadn't in more than ten years. Hell, he hadn't heard pretty much anything in ten years. No music…no Impala…no voices…nothing. His father had done his best to help Dean compensate for the lack of hearing. Taught him to rely on his other senses and encouraged him to be in even better physical shape, so that he was faster and more agile than the monsters they hunted. But it was Sammy that had tried to actually help Dean through the transition. His little brother had taken the time to learn sign language and then he'd all but forced Dean to sit down and learn it too. Because, as Sam had explained, 'he wasn't going to spend the rest of his life not being able to communicate with his big brother'.

_That_ had been hitting below the belt as far as Dean was concerned. Sam had played the 'little brother' card and Dean had capitulated and learned the new language along with his brother. He'd finally dropped out of normal school his senior year. By then he'd been so sick and tired of being treated as _special_ by the faculty members and the curious looks of the other students, that he couldn't take it anymore. Dean had gotten far quieter over the years, he spoke out loud only when it was absolutely necessary and during investigations on hunts. He'd also lost weight as he forced himself to train harder and harder to try and keep an edge over the monsters.

Three weeks ago he'd woken up in a motel room…one that he'd been sharing with his father for the past week…alone. There was no note, nothing to indicate where John had gone. He'd simply left Dean. The keys to the Impala and a stash of cash and fake credit cards had been left on the small kitchen table. Dean had tried everything he could think of to find the man and still he _had bupkis_ to go on. John hadn't been the easiest person to live with since Dean's accident. He'd done his best to keep his frustrations at bay, but the one problem with teaching a person to use their other senses? They got really good at reading people…really good at seeing what it was that the other person was trying to hide.

That was what had brought him to California…the need to search for his father and the fact that he needed Sam's help to do that. He hadn't talked to Sam in over two years, not since they'd argued about Dean's own future. Sam had wanted Dean to come with him to California, to Stanford. But Dean hadn't been able to walk away from their father the way Sam had. It was the worst argument that the brother's had ever had…and it had resulted in complete and utter silence for over two years. Dean nearly snorted at that thought…because honestly…he'd been dealing with complete and utter silence for the past 10 years…_just never from Sammy_.

There was no way that Dean would ever be telling Sam that there was no place for him in a college town. He wasn't smart enough to go to the same schools as Sammy, and he would only hold back his brilliant little brother from the life he so desperately wanted. So they'd argued and Dean had shut down his 'big brother' mode to hurtle the words that would wound his overly sensitive baby brother. Sam it seemed…had done the same. The things that he'd said to Dean had been meant to wound…and they had…deeply.

Dean sighed and looked at the map next to his hip, his eyes flickering until he saw the name of the road that his little brother's apartment was located on. _Just because we don't talk, doesn't mean that I don't know where you've been, Sam. _

The sun was setting and it was probably close to seventy degrees outside, no wind, just the perfect ending to a less than perfect day. Dean had gotten used to looking for movement, rather than listening for sound. His eyes were sharp and practiced at reading lips…the only time he ran into problems with that was when the speaker was upset and then spoke too quickly, or they covered their mouths with something.

His stomach rumbled at him and he ignored the angry gnaw of hunger that pinched in his gut. He didn't have time to stop and eat right now. Something bad could have happened to his father…every minute counted. They needed to find the man and they needed to find him now.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _This is going to incorporate both canon and original storylines as the story progresses. There will be unabashed hurt Winchester throughout and the resulting angst from that. Both Sam and Dean's start to this story is different so expect changes. I'm not planning on following the series, just incorporating some of the known facts. This is its little fiction and is not related to anything else that I have written. I hope that you like it._

**Please Review: If you are wanting me to continue this fiction. Otherwise, I may shelve it.**


	2. Water under the Bridge

**_Synopsis:_** When Dean makes _one seemingly innocent _mistake and is permanently injured on a hunt, how will his hunter father and studious little brother handle the changes? Can Dean learn to hunt with a disability? Will his father ever fully really accept this new side of his eldest son? What happens when the boys are thrown into an extremely dangerous situation…can they cope in John's absence and with the new limitations placed on Dean. This story will contain flashbacks that will enlighten the readers of Dean and Sam's past as it pertains to everything about the recovery from this one mistake.

**_Legalities:_** I don't own any characters associated with Supernatural…they belong exclusively to Kripke and the CW network…I only play in their sandbox for my own amusement and yours. I am not making any money from this, it is a guilty pleasure.

This story is both canon and AU based on Dean's disability. I'm on an injured Dean kick right now…so bear with me. **This is NOT a SLASH story; it contains brotherly love, angst, and hurt/comfort only.**

*_And italics represent when the boys are signing and not speaking out loud.*_

**Chapter Two**

_Water under the Bridge_

Sam was leaning against the kitchen counter. The faded blue of the tile clashing with the sunny yellow on the walls. Being a poor college student attending an ivy league school didn't leave much money to pay for a great apartment. But it was the closest thing to 'roots' that he'd ever had.

Sam had been debating on calling Jessica and seeing if she wanted to go out later, but then Jerry had called and begged his help. He'd always been a sucker for the orphan puppy. So he inhaled slowly and pulled the old white coffee pot off the warming plate. He grabbed an old Batman mug from the cupboard and then sighed when it reminded him of his brother. Dean had always thought of himself as _Batman _and Sam assumed that that meant that he was Robin. _Like hell! _Thinking of his brother always brought back long ago buried feelings of regret and this time was no different. Memories of endless long nights pouring over the American Sign Language books floated to the forefront of his thoughts. He pulled out the creamer and poured it into his coffee and then groaned when he thought of the next couple of hours.

Sam hated Bio-chemistry…but his friend had promised him pizza and beer for his help. So he'd agreed. It wasn't that much of a stretch; after all he'd been trying to figure out how to ask Jessica out for almost a year; one more night wasn't going to change that.

Brady was out of town for the weekend and Sam figured that he could probably get away with it…especially since to two men didn't like each other much. He'd never really understood their intense dislike for one another until he'd met _Veronica_…Brady's current girlfriend and Jerry's old one. Once he knew the whole story, Sam had done his level best to stay out of their problems and luckily he'd been able to do exactly that. He explained to guys that he was friends with them _both_, but in this instant…think of him as Switzerland.

A sharp knock at the door had him grabbing the mug and heading into the living room. The small room was bare of everything but a beige threadbare couch, a TV, and the old leather recliner in the corner. But this was home…and it was the only one that he'd ever known. Besides the _sense of home_ that his older brother had tried desperately to create in the countless motel rooms they'd lived in…even after Dean had lost his hearing. That line of thinking had Sam scrubbing a hand down his face in regret. His desire to be free of the life their father had forced on them had over-ruled his better judgment. And he'd said such awful things to his brother…things he hadn't meant but had worked their way out of his mouth anyways.

He pulled open the door and nearly dropped his mug in surprise. There in his doorway stood Dean. Same spiky blonde hair, same old leather jacket, and the same cocky look in his green eyes. He was leaning against the railing, the paint peeling and sticking to his brother's jeans and he was wearing a slight smile on his face. _*What?*_ Dean signed. _*Surprised to see me?*_

Sam's eyebrows rose into his hairline and he nodded absently, Dean was probably the last person he'd expected. He suddenly realized that he'd dropped coffee all over his brother's leather boots. "Sorry Dean." He mumbled. His hands moving to sign his apology before he leaned over to grab the mug from the floor. He heard his brother's deep chuckle as he stood back up. "What are you doing here, Dean?" He asked.

His older brother shrugged. *_I wanted to see you.*_

"That's crap Dean. You haven't even texted me in the last two years, what makes you think I would believe that you just _'wanted to see me?'_" Sam's hands were rushing to sign the words as his anger started to rear its ugly head.

*_I don't remember you texting me or anything either, Sammy. Ya know what? Forget it.*_ Dean signed, his hand moving over the other one and swiping across. His normally vibrant eyes were blank and his entire expression was devoid of any emotion. Sam had seen his brother do this before, right after the accident. Dean had been withdrawn and angry…and he'd shut out his family. And as he looked at his big brother, he knew he was seeing it again.

Sam's anger drained away in an instant. He knew that that was true. Neither of them had tried to contact the other, which meant that he was _confused_ as to how Dean had found him in the first place. He mentally kicked himself. Of course Dean had known where he'd been these last two years. There was no way that his overly protective older brother would have let him take off without knowing where Sam was at all times and if he was safe.

While his outside was calm and expressionless, the inside of Dean was anything but. He would have resembled a duck on water, calm on the surface and all churning webbed feet below. He had been hoping that Sam would've forgiven him for his part in their fight the night Sam left…but as Dean watched Sam's anger start to build, he knew that they weren't back to normal yet. Deep down Dean had always blamed himself for their fight. If he'd just been a bit more careful on that fucking hunt ten years ago, then he wouldn't have lost his hearing and Sam wouldn't have wanted to leave him.

No matter what anyone else told him, Dean _knew_ that Sam hadn't ever wanted this life and that when he'd gotten hurt like that, it had given Sam the excuse he needed to walk away.

But he was so practiced at hiding his feelings that not one of the scores of self-loathing emotions that Dean was hiding graced his face.

Sam looked at his brother closely. The damage skin around his eyes had healed, Dean had to wear contacts now, but at least he wasn't disfigured. _At least not on his face._ His chest was another story altogether. The damaged to his skin had been severe and permanent. Surgeries had helped with some of it, but most of the scar tissue was still visible.

Which meant that Dean didn't swim and he didn't sleep around, because he couldn't stand the thought of telling a woman about that night.

All in all…life was very different for them and they both knew it.

XXXX

_-September 1996-_

Dean leaned against piles of soft white pillows. His back was pushing gently into the small hospital bed and he was trying to ignore the extreme discomfort. The scratchy blankets were making him want to squirm, but the thought of the amount of pain that would cause stopped him. The nurses were in the process of changing his bandages; his chest was healing…albeit slowly and painfully. Dean's eyesight was still a little blurry, but that too was slowly clearing up. His hearing on the other hand, that was another story entirely. It wasn't healing at all, there had been no significant improvement in his ability to recognize sounds or pitch…in fact there had been no improvement at all. He swallowed the anger that always came with thoughts of that specific hunt. He was grateful that he'd managed to save Sammy, but he'd messed up and apparently this was the universe's way of punishing him.

His father hadn't said a word to him, yet…of course Dean couldn't have heard it even if he had…but he could tell that John was really disappointed in the outcome of that hunt. It should have been an in and out type of thing and instead Dean had wound up permanently injured and in the hospital. And that was worse than anything his father could possibly _say_ to him. _His knowledge of his own failure. _All Dean had ever wanted was for his father to value him…as an equal. Not that he wanted to change the dynamic of their relationship; Dean just wanted his dad to know that he'd _grown up_. And that he could hold his own in this messed up world they all lived in…and more than that…he _could_ take care of Sammy.

And then there was Sam's reaction to this whole thing. His little brother had been a constant presence since that night. He'd even bought some bullshit book about sign language. Dean had refused to even look at the thing until the doctors had come back with his test results. It was just like his baby brother to be prepared for any emergency with some sort of textbook. _Damn Boy Scout._

When the doctors did come back with his results…it was only to tell Dean that his eardrums had been perforated…in both ears…and that it wasn't curable. The nurses had felt sorry for the poor kid with the burns, so they brought him a notepad and a pen so he could write things down if he wasn't ready to speak out loud. _Which he wasn't_. Much to his little brother's intense ire, Sam hated not talking with Dean and Dean knew it. The fiery sparks of pain from the burns was unlike anything that Dean had ever dealt with. His pain tolerance was high, he knew it was…but this type of pain was something altogether different. He couldn't get away from it…sleeping didn't help, because the only time he even slept was when they drugged the shit out of him. _And that seemed to be more often than not these days. _

Dean supposed that it could have been worse; the floating sensation wasn't entirely unpleasant, but he didn't like the disjointed feeling. It made Dean feel separated from Sam and his father and that was something that he just didn't handle well. His constant need to know that they were safe was eating into his recovery and the doctors weren't too pleased with him about that. And because they weren't happy with Dean, neither was his father and neither was Sammy.

XXXX

*_Can I come in? Or are you gonna leave me hanging on the porch like a stray dog?*_ His hands moved quickly and Sam found that he was a little out of practice. But he got the gist of the conversation and stepped aside allowing room for Dean to wander inside.

He glanced around and whistled low in his throat. It still bothered him that he couldn't hear the sound, but he knew what it should sound like. And judging by his brother's surprised expression, he'd succeeded.

"So you can still make noises." He turned and walked toward the kitchen in search of more coffee, since his was all over the porch…and Dean's shoes.

"Of course I can still speak." He shot out without thinking. Dean could feel the rumble of his vocal cords in his throat and he wondered what his voice sounded like at this point. Was it deep like his father's? What did Sam sound like all these years later?

Sam spun in his direction and his mouth worked but he wasn't saying anything coherent. His brother's voice was a deep raspy thing that sounded like he never used it. It was different than he remembered. He signed his answer, rather than speaking just to show Dean that he could. *_You don't speak that often Dean. Are you doing okay?*_

Dean pulled in a slow steady breath and swallowed before launching into his reasoning from coming to Palo Alto. "Dad's missing, Sam. I need your help finding him." He watched as his brother reached up and scrubbed a hand through his hair as he took in the information. Sam had always had a habit of reaching up messing with his mop of brown hair. Ever since they were kids and didn't appear to have changed when he'd gone to college.

*_You don't need me to find dad. He's probably on a bender with Jose, Jack or the Captain. He'll show back up, Dean. He always does.*_ Sam resorted to signing, so that Dean didn't miss anything that he was saying. Their father had been going on drunken benders since they'd been little. He wasn't abusive or anything, he just never dealt with the loss of their mother or Dean's accident.

*_I can't do this on my own.*_ Dean's face was honestly worried as he stared at his little brother. He'd never thought that Sam wouldn't come with him. He'd known that there was a possibility that his brother was still angry with, but he really didn't think he'd need to convince Sam to help with finding their father.

*_Yes you can.*_ Sam signed quickly.

Dean shook his head miserably and ran his own long fingers through his spiky blonde hair. "Well, I don't want to."

Sam's lips thinned and he looked at the floor for moment before continuing. His sharp eyes catching some dust in the corner, he'd need to sweep and mop this place later. He was just starting to answer when Dean interrupted his thoughts.

"Sam…I haven't bothered you or asked you for anything in over two years. Now…I need your help." The bright green eyes were boring into Sam's forehead as he capitulated under his brother's intense gaze.

"Alright…fine. But I have to be back on Monday." Sam was turning away when Dean's voice pulled him back around.

"What's on Monday?" He was wearing a genuinely curious expression as he waited for an answer.

*_I have an interview.*_ Sam's hands forming into a fist, with his pinky fingers raised and brought them to his chin moving them away from his lips.

"Skip it." Dean said easily.

"It's a Law School interview and it's my whole future on a plate."

That got Dean's attention. A part of him had always assumed that Sam would go to school and then come back and they'd be a team again. It'd never occurred to him that his little brother would get a normal job and live a normal 'apple pie life'.

*_I'll get you back, Sammy. Just come with me…please.*_ Dean's hand came to his chest and then moved in a clockwise circle a few times. He wasn't going to beg Sam, but he wasn't above saying 'please'.

*_Okay…I'll come with you.* _Sam grabbed his phone and texted Jerry. He didn't even have to lie. He told his friend that his brother had shown up unexpectedly and that their father had gone hunting and they hadn't heard from him for a few days. He packed his bags quickly and then grabbed a couple textbooks that he could use some extra time with and followed Dean out to the Impala. A small smile pulled at the edges of his lips when he saw the classic black car. Both he and Dean had always loved that car...it had been their only real home their entire lives.

The doors still had the same squeak as he crawled into the passenger seat and the leather seat still felt like butter as he settled in. He glanced over as his brother got in and fired up the V8 engine.

"So where are we headed?" He asked before Dean could start driving and avoid his question because he'd be watching the road.

Dean shrugged. "Last I knew dad was in northern California."

"Okay." Sam said as they rolled out his driveway and toward the highway. He wished for about the millionth time that they were like other families and that it didn't take a 'missing person' to bring them together.

Dean looked over and couldn't help the warm feeling that fluttered through his chest as he saw Sam exactly where he should be...in the passenger seat of the Impala.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _Thank you for such a great response. I hope that you like this next installment of the story. This story will continue to have flashbacks that will coincide with their current predicaments. Thank you to Alena and any other's that I cannot PM...you guys inspire me._

**Please Review: It's the only way I know if you are still reading.**


	3. A Moose and a Snow Fox

**_Synopsis:_** When Dean makes _one seemingly innocent _mistake and is permanently injured on a hunt, how will his hunter father and studious little brother handle the changes? Can Dean learn to hunt with a disability? Will his father ever fully really accept this new side of his eldest son? What happens when the boys are thrown into an extremely dangerous situation…can they cope in John's absence and with the new limitations placed on Dean. This story will contain flashbacks that will enlighten the readers of Dean and Sam's past as it pertains to everything about the recovery from this one mistake.

**_Legalities:_** I don't own any characters associated with Supernatural…they belong exclusively to Kripke and the CW network…I only play in their sandbox for my own amusement and yours. I am not making any money from this, it is a guilty pleasure.

This story is both canon and AU based on Dean's disability. I'm on an injured Dean kick right now…so bear with me. **This is NOT a SLASH story; it contains brotherly love, angst, and hurt/comfort only.**

*_And italics represent when the boys are signing and not speaking out loud.*_

**Chapter 3**

_A Moose and the Snow Fox_

_-December 1996-_

Dean stared at the twinkling mass of Christmas lights located in the room next to theirs. He hated how Sammy would look inside those places with wonder in his soft blue-green eyes complete with a longing that Dean couldn't fill.

His hearing was the still the same, but Sam had insisted that they work on the sign language thing _together._ He was also making Dean sit and try to figure out _what_ he was saying in an attempt to help with lip reading. While the help wasn't exactly what the older boy wanted…he was trying to be receptive to it. And that was hard. Dean Winchester wasn't exactly the best patient and he sure as hell didn't like to ask for or receive help of any kind.

Their father had been unusually quiet over the past few months. Of course that was only when he was actually around; John was finding more reasons to hunt than ever before. It was almost like he was trying to make up for Dean's mistake that night. When he was around, he didn't really talk to his oldest boy. And Dean noticed.

How could he not? Since the age of four, the little blonde haired, green eyed boy had carefully watched and learned from his father's actions and his inactions. And unfortunately he was also learning from the unfamiliar silence as well. Sam had seen the whole thing happening before his eyes and he knew that he couldn't change it…and that pissed him off to no end.

The colored lights were a bright reminder of a life they would never fit into…one the Winchester boys could never fully understand. Dean sighed and then shook his head in irritation when he didn't hear the rush of air from between his own lips. Part of him wondered if he could even hunt in this condition…_could_ he protect Sam if he couldn't _hear?_ Dean reached up and scrubbed a hand down his face in frustration. A slight pull of the scars that now littered his chest made him grimace at the discomfort. It didn't _hurt_ per say…but it definitely reminded him that he was damaged goods.

_Yeah, like I didn't know that before._ He thought in rising irritation. Dean pushed up from his seat and wandered back to his own side of the bed. Whenever their father was around, he and Sam were forced to share the other bed and John was due back tonight.

His intelligent green eyes landed on the slight figure of his younger brother. Sam was snoring softly, his head turned toward the wall and completely unaware of the attention. _Which is good, because he'd whine at me for it._ Dean thought as he thinned his lips and inhaled slowly. He decided against the bed and wandered over to the small kitchen table, flipping on the tiny lamp in the corner. He flinched when he saw the '_Sign Language'_ book lying opened to the word _Brother_…

"Sammy…" the word fell from his lips without him thinking about it. He sank into the worn wooden chair and started to flip through the book. The pictures were helpful, but he knew that he would have to make a concentrated effort to learn this stuff. He wasn't the brainiac that Sam was, but he was by no means stupid. And if Sam could take the time to learn it for him…then he would learn it _for _Sam. It never occurred to Dean that he might need this for his own life…it would never occur to him. But anything that he could do to make Sam's life easier…that was a no brainer.

XXXX

_-December 2006-_

Sam was sleeping in the passenger seat, his Law Books scattered over the bench seat next to his hip. Dean's gaze drifted between the road and the obviously uncomfortable position his brother's neck was in. It was scrunched over and he knew that Sam was gonna wake up with one hell of a headache.

The snow was falling heavily outside the windows of the black car as it shot down the narrow two-lane highway. The trees were heavy with the icy white stuff and blocking out any of the light that might normally filter down to the black road. The last place that they wanted to be on a night like this was on a deserted highway in the middle of the winter up in the Sierra's…but that was exactly where the trail for their father had lead them. It was only three days before Christmas and the sudden winter storm had caught Dean off guard. He glanced down at the fuel gauge and he silently thanked God that he'd thought to stop and fill up at the last station he'd seen. They were riding on an almost a full tank of gas and the heater was throwing out a comfortable temperature as storm outside raged.

Dean only looked away from the road a split second, long enough to reach over and try to maneuver Sam's head into a better position. His little brother snorted and shifted, curling in toward the door…

It happened in an instant.

His eyes were returning to the icy road and movement caught his attention almost instantly. A large Moose was moving across the road directly in front of the car. Dean's brain did mental gymnastics as he debated a response for a fraction of a second and then the choice was pulled from his grasp. A second larger Moose ran out of the dark cover of the foliage and Dean's body reacted on instinct. His foot slammed down on the brakes, his right arm shot out in front of Sam and he screamed his brother's name all at the same time. "Sammy!"

Sam's eyes shot open and he grunted as Dean's arm slammed into his chest and then he felt the whole car lurch and spin as they were suddenly spinning. "Dean!" He tried to brace for an impact he knew was inevitable, but he wasn't prepared as the car careened off the edge of the road and rampaged down the side of the steep mountain.

Trees were busted down and thrown out of the path as the car careened in an uncontrolled descent, snow was flying everywhere and there was the distinct splash of blood across the now cracked glass of the front windshield. Sam's head was spinning, his eyes flashed to Dean's terrified green gaze as they continued to slip further from the road in a sideways slide. The car bounced and jumped as it hit unseen objects…finally coming to a complete stop when Dean's side of the car smashed into an enormous pine tree, the base almost as wide as the driver's door. The squeal of the metal and the hissing grind of the engine roared in the darkness as the crumpled form of the Impala settled against the trunk.

Snow dropped from the huge tree and enveloped the outside of the car in a blanket of soft white. The interior going pitch black in an instant as the engine continued to whine in the cold night air. A Snow Fox was startled from its den and skirted out into the black night. The tracks it left in its wake disappearing quickly as the snow increased and the wind started to pick up. The snow was starting to swirl and shift building a wall of white against the outside of the car. The passenger would have a hard time opening the door in the very near future…and as for the driver's side? It was pinned against the immovable mass of the ancient tree. The branches so heavy with snow that they seemed to reach down and embrace the car like a child.

Inside the car there was no movement. Neither Winchester was conscious. Sam's books were now strewn all over the floor and one of them had even landed near Dean's right foot. The clunking struggle of the heater was the only sound as it worked to push luke-warm air inside the mangled interior. The front windshield had numerous long spidery cracks running from side to side and extending to the top of the car.

XXXX

_-December 1996-_

Something was off and it eventually pushed Sam toward full awareness. He shifted, stretching out his cramped muscles and realized that he was sleeping in the small full sized bed alone. He twisted and worked to untangle himself from the sheets, his gaze sweeping the small motel room for his brother. His search stopped short when he saw the top of Dean's head lying on his arms at the table a few feet away. Sam glanced over at the other bed and sighed when he saw that their father still wasn't back yet. "Typical." He muttered as he pulled himself from the warm sheets.

He inhaled sharply at the chill in the air and the bite of uncomfortable cold as his bare foot hit the wooden floorboards. Sam moved quickly toward Dean, he was careful not to startle his brother…that had gotten him punched more than once in recent months. It wasn't that Dean wasn't horrified every time it happened, but he couldn't just turn off years of instinct because one part of his body had betrayed him. Sam knew that…and he never blamed his brother for the unconscious reaction. But that didn't stop Dean from beating himself up for weeks every time it had happened.

A small smile pulled at the corners of his lips when Sam noticed that Dean was asleep on top of the sign language book. He'd been reading and trying to learn the new language…and had fallen asleep. The last thought had Sam chuckling to himself. Just like his big brother to fall asleep if there was a book anywhere near him. The only time Dean ever read was when it involved car engines…and Sam didn't think that Chilton's counted as literature…or when there was some sort of scantily clad woman involved. _Or if there was a hunt on their horizon that he needs to study up on the monster._ Sam's snorted at this. Yeah, that pretty much summed up his older brother's view of literature.

Dean shifted in his sleep and a slight groan escaped from his chest as his face pinched in pain. He wasn't saying anything, but it was obvious to Sam that Dean was dreaming. And whatever Dean was dreaming about…it wasn't pleasant. "No…Sammy…come on, bro. Wake up…damn ghost…I'm sorry." The words were disjointed but clear as Dean continued to shift uncomfortably, his eyes moving rapidly beneath his closed eyelids as the light from the small lamp near his shoulder accentuated the soft smattering of freckles that graced the bridge of his nose.

Sam's eyes narrowed and he decided instantly that it didn't matter if he got punched again, he wouldn't sit and watch his brother suffer at the hands of his own twisted mind. It only took a moment for him to realize that Dean was thinking about the night he'd been injured. The night that Sam had been tossed into that ghost's grave and had failed to answer Dean for 25 whole seconds.

He slipped around behind Dean, ready to duck and gently reached out to shake the shivering shoulders. "Dean?" Sam knew that his brother couldn't hear him, but it made him feel better to talk out loud. A shudder ran through Dean's shoulders before he stopped shaking and then turned bloodshot glassy eyes in his little brother's direction. He blinked several more times and then surged to his feet pulling Sam into a tight and completely unexpected hug. It caught Sam so off guard that he just stood there for a moment before he thought to pull his own arms up and wrap them around his big brother.

No words were spoken when Dean finally release Sam. No words were needed. Sam knew what Dean _had said_ without saying a word…and Dean knew that Sam returned the sentiment without uttering a syllable.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone that read and reviewed the last chapter. To those of you that I cannot PM, Alena…thank you for taking the time. I'll try and get the next chapter up quickly, It's a cliffy…I know._

**Please Review: I want to know if you are on board with where this is headed.**


	4. A Lantern in the Dark

**_Synopsis:_** When Dean makes _one seemingly innocent _mistake and is permanently injured on a hunt, how will his hunter father and studious little brother handle the changes? Can Dean learn to hunt with a disability? Will his father ever fully really accept this new side of his eldest son? What happens when the boys are thrown into an extremely dangerous situation…can they cope in John's absence and with the new limitations placed on Dean. This story will contain flashbacks that will enlighten the readers of Dean and Sam's past as it pertains to everything about the recovery from this one mistake.

**_Legalities:_** I don't own any characters associated with Supernatural…they belong exclusively to Kripke and the CW network…I only play in their sandbox for my own amusement and yours. I am not making any money from this, it is a guilty pleasure.

This story is both canon and AU based on Dean's disability. I'm on an injured Dean kick right now…so bear with me. **This is NOT a SLASH story; it contains brotherly love, angst, and hurt/comfort only.**

*_And italics represent when the boys are signing and not speaking out loud.*_

**Chapter 4**

_A Lantern in the Dark_

-_December 2006-_

The wind was whipping through the dense trees as the small snow white fox attempted to get back to its den. The sound of the engine clinking in the distance had it skittering around looking for an alternative entrance. The tiny white ears were pricking in curiosity when the large mass that leaned against the tree failed to move with the wind. It crawled forward, its belly dragging over the icy snow, and sniffed at the smoke blowing from the back of the car. A sudden flickering of light had it squeaking in dismay and pulling back toward the safety of the other trees.

The first sensation…pain. The second sensation…confusion. The light grinding of the engine was the only noise that penetrated the thick haze floating around inside of Sam's head. He groaned in pain and brought his hands up in an attempt to alleviate the pounding. His fuzzy brain was trying to put two and two together and determine why he wasn't in his own warm bed. He also wanted to know why the hell his leg hurt so fucking bad…there was a slicing pain that was quickly sluicing up his calf and quickly coming to a crescendo in his knee. "Son of a bitch…" He swore. Sam's hand was coated in red as he finally forced his eyes open and stared at the crimson liquid in surprise.

His head swiveled around and Sam was instantly regretting the movement as it exploded in a white blinding cacophony of agony. _Concussion..._ He told himself. The sudden memory of his older brother's presence had him ignoring the pounding ache and prying his eyelids open a second time.

Dean was leaning heavily against the driver's side door. He wasn't moving and he didn't seem to be conscious, there was a long cut along his hairline near the base of his neck that was bleeding sluggishly, but that seemed to be it. Sam reached out and gently pushed at Dean's shoulder. His brother didn't react to the pressure. _That's not a good sign._ Sam thought quickly. Even knowing that Dean couldn't hear him didn't stop Sam was calling out to his brother. "Dean?" His eyes raked the small amount of light that was filtering through the busted up front window. It appeared as though the snow had melted slightly due to the difference in temperature. The heater was still trying to pump in what little bit of heat it could as the engine struggled to run. The Impala was still pushing out the tepid air in a valiant effort to save their lives. Dean would be proud of his beloved Chevy; she was doing her part to keep them alive.

The storm outside the cabin of the car continued to rage violently as Sam shifted and reached for a flashlight that he knew was always in the glove compartment. A ragged gasp of pain slipped past his lips as he grabbed the light and flipped it on. The interior lit up with a dull yellow light and he finally got his first good look at his leg. "Ah shit…" he grumbled when the stark white of a small piece of bone reflected the light back at him. He'd managed to break the tibia just below the knee, a compound fracture and one that was going to make hiking out of this mess impossible…at least for him. His eyes glided back over to Dean who was just starting to move his breathing shifting into pants. "Dean…" Sam asked again as he reached out and tapped his brother on the back.

The older Winchester flipped over instantly and then he groaned as his eyes widened and he sank against the door. "You okay?" Dean's voice was raspy, but at least he was speaking out loud. Sam nodded and flashed the light around the car, it eventually landed on his leg and Dean blew out a breath of frustration. He started to push at the door of the car in an attempt to get to the first aid kit that was located in the trunk.

Sam's arm shot out to get his brother's attention before he could make it out of the car. *_Dean…it's a blizzard out there.*_ His hands signed as soon as Dean's green eyes rounded back on him. He shook his head and huffed.

"Your leg…you need the kit." Dean didn't even bother signing his answer as his eyes conveyed his sincerity.

Sam shook his head. He was careful to speak slowly so that Dean wouldn't miss a word. "Not if it means you gotta go out into this…neither of us are okay, Dean." He watched as his words landed on his brother and Dean's forehead furrowed in frustration. Sam knew that his older brother was getting impatient and that he was coming up with every reasonable excuse to get to the trunk. The blood that was still dribbling down his neck and soaking into his collar has Sam worried. Not to mention Sam's own blurry vision and aching head.

*_I'm going Sammy…*_ He signed before shifting and crawling into the back seat. He swallowed hard before grabbing onto the handle and pushing at the door…it didn't budge. Dean groaned and then sat back, using his legs to push at the door. Again…nothing. "Son of a bitch." He growled as he ignored the pain that was climbing inside his head.

Sam watched carefully as his brother struggled with the door. He'd tried to say something a couple a times and he knew that Dean was pointedly _not _looking in his direction. Sam hated it when his brother used his deafness against the world. _Like he's doing at this very moment._

Dean swallowed down the nausea that was climbing up his throat and the dizziness that was getting worse the longer he stared at the unmoving door. He needed to get them the hell off this mountain…and quickly. He turned and settled back on his ass as he shifted and lined his feet up and pressed against the other door. His eyes swept over to Sam and then quickly back toward the door. It shifted a few inches and he breathed out the stress of the situation as he pushed even harder.

Sam heard his brother grunt and then a loud groan filled the car as the door made a crunching sound and pushed open several inches. He reached down where he'd tied a t-shirt around the fracture; the thrum of pain running up his leg wasn't exactly comfortable. There were pain pills in the back with the first aid kid…their bags were back there as well, which meant extra clothing and sleeping bags, along with Dean's stash of junk food.

"I'm going to push through the opening and get that gear. You're gonna be fine, Sammy." Dean said before shoving his way through the narrowly opened door and into the icy pins of snow swirling through the small opened area. He pushed the door closed in an attempt to keep as much heat inside the vehicle as possible. Sam had already lost a fair amount of blood and was likely to go into shock before Dean could get them out of this mess.

The ice pounded his face and he could swear that small knives were cutting swaths of skin from his head and neck. The leather jacket wasn't doing much to cut the wind and the snow was piling up higher and higher as it fell in a nearly steady stream of crystal white flakes. He tried to see into the distance, but the thick trees prevented him from seeing much with his small flashlight. He groaned as he pulled the trunk open and started grabbing gear. He carefully rounded the car and opened the back door again. He threw the bags onto the seat and continued until he'd cleared the trunk of almost everything, but some of the weapons. He did grab several shotguns in addition to the handguns and the ammo. It never hurt to be safe…and it always hurt to be sorry…in his experience.

Dean was just about ready to close the trunk when he noticed a small lantern sitting in the corner. His fingers shook as he reached out to grab the green metal can. Memories assaulted him as his hand closed around the handle.

XXXX

_-April 1997-_

Dean trudged through the forest. The old adage 'Sometimes it's hard to see the forest for the trees' ran through his head. They were searching for a Wendigo and neither Sam nor their father seemed to be hearing anything. Both of the Winchesters were looking off into the distance, their lips were moving, so Dean assumed that they were talking to one another. The fact that he couldn't participate in that conversation was making him feel more alone than he'd felt in a long time. His eyes scanned the canopy of the pine trees and he sighed when he saw a blue jay spring from one tree to the next. It was obviously after something that only it could see and it made Dean wonder what exactly that could be.

He glanced back at the path just in time to see Sam trotting toward him. His little brother was carrying a large kerosene lantern and a broad grin. He pulled a large pad of paper from his backpack as soon as he stopped in front of his older brother. Dean raised an eyebrow as he waited for Sam to tell him what the plan was.

_Dean, dad wants us to check out this trail. He's gonna follow a trail that leads over toward a mine and then he'll meet up with us in two hours at the point of the trail._

"We're splitting up? That's brilliant." He said.

Sam's dark eyebrows furrowed at the unfamiliar dissention he heard in Dean's response. He shrugged and placed the lantern in his pack.

They'd followed the trail for almost a mile when Dean stopped and squatted down, grabbing a broken branch and twisting it. The break was recent and there was something on it…a black sticky substance that definitely wasn't blood. But it was something similar. He handed it back to Sam. "It's not blood." Dean said quickly.

He stood back up and started walking again. The sudden loss of ground beneath his feet had him tumbling into the darkness. An unwanted cry of surprise was ripped from his lips as he hit the ground in a tangle of limbs. The light disappeared from above his head as the dirt from the edges of the hole fell in and landed on top of him. His last thought was that Sam had just seen him fall…and he prayed that Sammy would be smart enough to go get their father. Dean's world closed in as his vision was reduced to a single pinpoint of light.

Sam watched in horror as his brother's blonde head slid out of view as the ground beneath him suddenly gave way. "Dean!" He cried without thinking. It only took a moment for him to realize that he hadn't moved yet and that he hadn't heard any movement from inside the hole. Sam scrambled forward and fell to his knees, his head popping over the edge as he called for his brother. The rational part of his brain that knew that Dean couldn't hear him to answer had shut down as soon as Dean had disappeared from view.

The smell that wafted up from the dank dark hole was thick with a mossy earthy overtone. But there was also a decaying smell…the type of smell that only came with death and rotted meat. The sun was starting to set off in the distance and Sam was having a hard time seeing inside the deep crevice. He knew that his brother had to be down there…but his eyes couldn't make out anything more than a darkness that his gaze couldn't penetrate.

"DEAN!" He screamed again. Sam sat up and struggled out of his backpack, throwing it to the ground and digging through it for his large Maglite. The glossy black handle finally finding its way into his searching fingers. He flipped it on and tossed the light over the edge of the hole, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the difference in illumination.

The dust was just starting to settle when he finally saw the unconscious form of his older brother. Dean was lying face down in a muddy deluge of water and rock. His nose seemed to be above the shallow depths, but his body wasn't moving and his leg looked like it was twisted the wrong direction. _Which means it's probably broken._ Sam thought in rising concern. They needed their father; he couldn't haul his brother's, not insignificant weight, up a rope.

Sam didn't dare take his eyes off Dean for a moment. But he kept trying to figure out how to let his dad know that they'd run into trouble. He was considering calling for help or running back to the front of the trail, when it occurred to him that Wendigo's liked dank dark places…and it appeared as though Dean had literally stumbled onto what would be a perfect hiding place for that particular monster.

A sudden groan of pain had him leaning further over the edge. He watched as Dean shuddered and pulled his body over onto his back. His eyes were closed and a grimace of agony was clearly visible on his face as he settled against the rock and water.

Dean blinked several times before his eyes finally focused on his little brother's panicked face. Sam was leaning over the edge of a hole and he looked terrified as his lips moved at lightning speed…and then the pain hit.

"Ah…shit…shit…" Dean swore as his hands shifted down toward grab his leg. _It hurt like a bitch! _ He wanted to move it into another position, but the blinding pain was making him think that wasn't such a good idea. The light was starting to fade and Dean knew that Sammy needed to go and get their father…quickly. Because there he wasn't going anywhere without the help of his father…and he damn well knew it and as he looked at the unhappy face of his little brother, he knew that Sam knew it too. "Go get dad…Sam." He called out. It wasn't exactly a surprise when his little brother shook his head vehemently. "Sammy, you can't pull me out and I can't climb with my leg like this. You have to go get dad."

*_What about you?*_ Sam signed. It was a simple sentence and one that, thankfully, Dean could understand. Like everything else in their lives, Sam was way ahead of Dean in learning the sign language stuff.

"Send me the lantern, Sam…and go get dad." He didn't want to be in the dark…he could handle being alone, but the dark had scared Dean since he was a little boy. Something about the night his mother had died had created the phobia. He was good at masking it…most of the time. But if he was completely honest with himself, he was scare right now and he hated the fact that Sam was seeing it firsthand. There were a lot of things that Dean was willing to share with Sam…this wasn't one of them.

Moments later a small rope descended into his prison of rock and dirt and the lantern settled gently next to his hip. Dean clenched his teeth and forced himself into a seated position, leaning his back against the root encrusted wall. He looked up and Sam was staring at him with those big blue-green eyes. It was obvious that he was fighting his better judgment as he pulled the rope back up. *_I'll hurry.*_ He signed quickly before his head disappeared from above and Dean was alone.

It's never a good thing to be alone with your thoughts. The complete silence that was now his world put him in that position more often than not. He could think of his favorite songs and the beautiful rumble of his Impala's engine after a tune up. But he couldn't escape the resounding echoes of his own thoughts.

His eyes scanned the small area that the light managed to illuminate and he breathed out slowly. His mind was creating shadows that were making him nervous and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. His gaze shifted the rope that Sammy had sent the lantern own with was still tied to something at the top. He moved and gritted his teeth when pain shot through his leg and up his spine. "Damn-it." He muttered.

Dean reached out and grabbed onto the length and tugged. It didn't budge. He bit at his lower lip and pulled with both hands, his left leg shifting accidentally as he did. "Fuck!" He growled. He settled back against the wall, scrubbing a hand down his face. He was once again in a position that he needed help from his father. _I swear, I'm never gonna hear the end of this…oh that's right dad doesn't even talk to me anymore. _He thought with regret.

_No…I'm gonna get myself out of this._ He grabbed the rope and hauled his body up into a standing position. Luckily the rope was a climbing rope and the tensile strength was such that it would hold his weight. If he waited for his father to _rescue him…_there's no way that John would ever think of him as an equal.

Dean wasn't an idiot, he knew that this was gonna hurt like hell. He balanced on one leg and then reached down removing his belt and placing the leather between his teeth. A sudden movement behind him had him spinning as quickly as his leg would allow to get a better look. He squinted into the darkness and his eyes widened when he saw the eyes of something embedded in the pitch black of the cavern. Dean scrambled for his bag and pulled out his shotgun, he seated a shell and then waited. His breaths coming in rapid pants as his chest heaved.

_Great, I'm gonna die in this god forsaken hole and Sammy's gonna come back and find my mangled corpse. Just fucking peachy!_

The instantaneous movement had Dean focusing on one point. The eyes were shifting from left to right, which meant that he'd managed to fall right into the den of something that wasn't a fox. Dean blinked and swallowed the fear that was inching its way up out of his stomach.

XXXX

_-December 2006-_

Sam was waiting impatiently inside the car as Dean hauled out bag after bag and threw them into the back seat. It was almost everything that they kept stored in the trunk and it was now sitting directly behind him. He reached over the seat and grabbed one of the sleeping bags and pulled it open. The longer he sat there the colder he was getting and that meant that his body was starting to go into shock. _And that's not a good thing._ It was going to give his overly protective big brother one more thing to fuss about…and Dean _would_ fuss about it.

He spread the bag over his large form and settled back against the leather again. The pain was receded somewhat and he was frustrated knowing that they wouldn't be getting out of this mess tonight. He heard the trunk slam shut and then the car dipped as Dean pulled the back door open again. He placed the small kerosene lamp on the floor in the back and then carefully crawled through the small opening, pulling the door closed behind him. Snow swirled into the car in the few moments that it was open and Sam shivered with the change in temperature.

"You okay?" Dean asked worriedly when he noticed that his brother had spread a sleeping bag over himself. He watched carefully as Sam pulled his hands from the warmth of the cover so he could answer.

*_Yeah…just a little cold. You okay?*_ Sam's hands were shaking and Dean narrowed his eyes when he noticed.

"You're not okay, Sam. Let me look at that leg." His brother crawled over the bench seat and sat carefully next him. The positioning inside the car was extremely awkward and since neither of the Winchester's was exactly small…they did the best they could. Sam bit at the inside of his cheek as he reached down and pulled his leg up. The pain that shot up through his hip and into his chest had him gasping for air as Dean gently helped place the leg on his lap.

Sam panted as Dean grabbed the kit and pulled out several rolls of bandages and then shook his head at the protrusion of small white bone just below the knee. The blood was minimal, which was good…but the fact that there was a compound fracture was bad. It meant that Dean couldn't set the bone and he needed to figure out how to get his little brother out of this messed up situation.

Dean's vision blurred in and out suddenly as a flash of pain bolted through his brain and centered near his eyes. He clenched his jaw for a moment and then went back to taking care of Sam's injury. Several minutes later he was tying off the white gauze. He glanced up at Sam and winced at the pained expression. "Sorry." He muttered.

Sam shook his head and reached out to pat Dean on the shoulder. *_It's fine, Dean.*_

*_No it's not…it's the mine all over again.*_ He watched as his brother's eyes went wide with understanding.

*_This is nothing like that damn mine, Dean. Shit happens. We just gotta figure out how to get out of here.*_ Sam's gaze was unflinching as he stared at his older brother. His hands flying rapidly as he signed his opinion. *_I checked the cell phones…nothing. As soon as this storm lets up…you gotta get back up to the road and try to flag someone down.*_

It was Dean's turn to balk. *_Not if that means leaving you alone.*_

*_Yes…especially if that means leaving me alone…Dean if you don't.*_ Sam sighed. "We're both gonna die out here."

"You're not dying on me, Sammy." Dean said in a flat voice that was unlike anything that Sam had ever heard before. It was almost feral in nature and unlike his brother's usually raspy tones.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _First of all, thank you to everyone that read and reviewed, those I PM'd and those I cannot. The story is just heating up, Dean is gonna have to try and get help and Sam is in no condition to go…but will that keep him inside the safety of the car? And is the car even safe?_

**Please Review: This is different from how I generally write and I am hopeful that you are enjoying it.**


	5. The Cavern and the Impala

**_Synopsis:_** When Dean makes _one seemingly innocent _mistake and is permanently injured on a hunt, how will his hunter father and studious little brother handle the changes? Can Dean learn to hunt with a disability? Will his father ever fully really accept this new side of his eldest son? What happens when the boys are thrown into an extremely dangerous situation…can they cope in John's absence and with the new limitations placed on Dean. This story will contain flashbacks that will enlighten the readers of Dean and Sam's past as it pertains to everything about the recovery from this one mistake.

**_Legalities:_** I don't own any characters associated with Supernatural…they belong exclusively to Kripke and the CW network…I only play in their sandbox for my own amusement and yours. I am not making any money from this, it is a guilty pleasure.

This story is both canon and AU based on Dean's disability. I'm on an injured Dean kick right now…so bear with me. **This is NOT a SLASH story; it contains brotherly love, angst, and hurt/comfort only.**

*_And italics represent when the boys are signing and not speaking out loud.*_

**Chapter 5**

_The Cavern and the Impala_

_-December 2006-_

Dean quietly watched as his brother simply breathed. Sam had taken two of the small white pain pills and he was currently breathing deeply…obviously asleep. His long leg was elevated on the other sleeping bag across the front bench seat. Dean had crawled into the backseat to give his enormous baby brother a little more room. He watched Sam shift uncomfortably and mutter something under his breath as he twisted and settled further under the covers. It was never easy to see Sammy injured, that had always been a sore point for Dean. Whenever he could avoid seeing his little brother vulnerable…he did.

His green eyes flickered over to the gas gauge and Dean felt his eyelids drop closed in agitation…they couldn't seem to catch a break. The gauge was dropping below a half tank and the wind outside the car was picking up. The shuttering strength of the storm was making his skin crawl with concern as well as rattling the car. Dean knew that he needed to try and get help, but if he went out in this storm there was a good chance that they would both die. He would die from exposure and Sam would die because of sepsis…and exposure. _Not a good plan, Dean._ He thought.

But really what were his other options? He didn't know how long the storm would last. _Hell, he hadn't even known that it was coming._ But as he watched the wind whip the rising snow around the car as the drifts built, he wondered if he could at least make it to the road. An unexpected wash of nausea had him sitting back and swallowing hard. The blackening edges of his vision had him groaning at the Winchester luck that seemed to follow them everywhere. _I'm not that much better off than Sam._

A hand waved in front of his eyes and he focused on the worried expression of his little brother. * _Stop thinking so loud, Dean. * _Sam's eyes were worried and slightly glassy as he stared at his older brother. He hadn't missed the sudden grimace that Dean hadn't known he should hide.

"I'm fine, Sammy." Dean pulled in a long slow shaky breath before continuing. "I think I need to try and get to the highway." He expected a fight from his brother, but he wasn't interested in his brother's opinions...not tonight.

Sam's dark eyebrows pulled together as he shook his head emphatically 'no'. He could hear the howl of the wind as it snarled just outside the Impala and he knew that his brother might not make it back if he went out. Not in this.

Dean held up his hands in an attempt to stop Sam's negative reactions. "Sam, that leg isn't gonna get any better without help. And we have no idea how long that storm is gonna last." Dean knew that his thinking was sound on this subject and that Sam _should_ agree with him. But the stubborn-ass look that spread across Sam's face had him groaning in frustration.

"That's right, Dean. We don't even know how bad that storm is…" It was obvious that his little brother wasn't going to agree based on the merits of just getting medical help for Sam.

"Sam…the gas is running out and we aren't gonna survive without heat. It's gotta be less than twenty degrees out there…" Sam cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"That's why you can't go out there, Dean." He said emphatically. The animated way that his face shifted, giving Dean the context in which he was speaking. The blue-green eyes were large and frantic as he saw the final decision settle on his older brother. Dean was going to do this whether not Sam wanted him to. "Dean…don't do this. Just wait. Please."

_* I can't Sammy. We need help…you need help. *_ Dean signed slowly. He started digging though the bundles of clothing that he'd thrown into the seat from the trunk. They owned parkas and winter weather gear, he just needed to find it. Plus, if he wasn't looking directly at his little brother, then Sam couldn't sit there and try and change his mind.

XXXX

-_April 1997_-

Sam ran through the forest as fast he could without tripping over the hidden roots and rocks. The image of his brother at the bottom of the hole playing across his vision as he ducked and avoided a low hanging branch. The wind was pushing lightly at his back and the temperature was dropping. _Why can't we ever catch a break?_ He wondered as he heard the rumble of thunder in the distance and a flash of lighting warned of an incoming storm.

The sun was setting quickly and he was losing what little light he had left. Sam wondered how Dean was holding up as he rounded a sharp corner. He missed the rocks that had fallen down the hillside and his foot twisted and rolled as it folded beneath him. A sharp crack of pain spiraled up his ankle and he bit through his lip as he plowed into the unforgiving ground. It took a moment for Sam to breathe out the pain that was enveloping his leg.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit…" He repeated angrily as he reached down and pushed at the rapidly swelling joint. "Not now." Breaking branches and shifting leaves had his eyes scanning the distance. "Dad?" He called into the low light.

"Sam?" His father's voice was a welcome sound and he allowed his eyelids to fall shut in silent relief.

"Dad?"

John rounded the corner to find his youngest son sitting in the middle of the trail, his bulbous, multi-colored ankle held in both hands. It didn't take a genius to know what had happened. Sam had twisted it on the hidden roots in the limited light that still filtering through the building clouds and the thickening canopy of trees. But it was the lack of his oldest son that had him spinning around. Dean would never have allowed Sam to take off alone. So that meant that something must have happened to his eldest son. "Where's Dean?"

Sam visibly swallowed and the groaned before he answered. "Dad, he fell through some sort of mine or cave…I'm not sure. But he's hurt." He watched his father absorb the information as he stepped forward and dropped to his knee near Sam's ankle. John reached out and gently took the swollen appendage between his cool fingers and pressed lightly.

Sam hissed in pain.

"I don't think it's broken. But I need to wrap it and you'll have to take it easy as we work our way back to Dean."

Once the ankle was wrapped, John found a large branch that would double as a walking stick. Sam tested his weight against the strength of the stick and nodded when it held. "We need to get back to Dean."

They trudged down the trail at a fraction of the pace that Sam had travelled away from his brother. He was worried and that was only increasing the longer he and Dean were separated. A crack from the approaching storm had him limping even faster. The pale yellow light from his dad's flashlight was the only illumination beyond the increasingly frequent flashes of lightning.

XXXX

Dean scrambled back, his back pressing against the root encrusted walls of the hole. He kept the eyes in his field of vision as he pulled at the rope. He nearly growled when the knot released at the top and the light rope fell in a heap at his feet. A grizzled sounding voice echoed through the cavern and he shuddered as he lifted his shotgun and aimed it at the eyes.

They blinked and then disappeared. Dean's gaze swept the darkness in a desperate bid to find the creature again. He could see the flashes of light from an approaching storm and the part of him that hated the dark prayed that Sam showed back up…quick.

Being alone with ones thoughts, injured, and trapped wasn't a great idea. The pain from Dean's leg was sending tendrils of fiery agony through his entire body. Whatever he'd done, he'd done a really good job. The break seemed to be pretty clean, but damn did it hurt. A puff of dirt off to his right had him shifting and a stab of pain caused him to lose his balance. The next thing he knew he was falling, the hard ground the only thing that broke his fall as he came to an unceremonious halt.

"Damn-it." He gasped. The shotgun dropped from his limp fingers as he reached for his leg…but the sudden reappearance of the eyes had him scrambling to pick up his weapon again. The small lantern was pushing out a limited amount of light, the edges of his immediate area barely illuminated. Dean reached out to pull his bag closer to his body. He dug through it until he came across the small butane flamethrower. He'd learned how to make one when he'd been ten years old, right before his very first Wendigo hunt.

The lighter was shoved in his front left pocket, where he always kept it. His fingers were just starting to dig at the pocket when the eyes rushed him. The thing moved so quickly that he wasn't able to get his finger onto the trigger before it connected with him. The pain that lanced through his skull as it bashed him in the head was so fast that he barely had time to register the blackness before it pulled him under.

The creature dragged the body of its next victim further into the cave, headless of the broken limb or the blood flowing freely from a deep gash on his forehead. The dank darkness of the cavern was of no concern as the thing could see as clearly in the darkness as it could in the daylight. The ropes from previous victims were still hanging from the old dried timbers of the mines supports. It hauled the body up and wrapped the heavy ropes around the wrists of its next victim. Long scaly fingers reached up and traced through the blood that was dribbling down the right side of Dean's face. The creature taking great pleasure in the taste of the metallic liquid as it ran the long dark tongue over its fingers.

XXXX

-_December 2006_-

Dean pulled on the last pair of socks that he could reasonably fit inside his leather boots, pulling the laces tight. He was making a point of not looking at his little brother. Sam's face was a mask of worry that Dean knew he couldn't work around. The best thing for both of them was for him to ignore the 'puppy-dog' faces his little brother was throwing in his direction.

It was his _job_ to take care of Sam. Always had been, from the moment his father had thrust the squirming bundle of blue into his four-year-old arms. That had never changed and it never would. It doesn't matter how old his little brother got…that little fact was never gonna change.

The night he'd been trapped in that cavern with the Wendigo had been one of the most frightening nights of Dean's life. His only consolation being that Sam hadn't been trapped down there with him. The fact that it had been Sam that had saved _his_ life that night had always been a silent source of pride for Dean. He'd taught his little brother well. Even with the busted up ankle, Sam had managed to find their father and come after Dean. What had happened next hadn't been his baby brother's fault.

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _Dean is going to venture out into the storm and there's also a development in the mine that neither of the boys saw coming. Thanks to everyone that took the time to review and read the last chapter. Thanks to Alena and any others that I cannot PM._

**Please Review: I am pushing to try and get this story out there, please let me know what you think.**


	6. Stepping Out

**_Synopsis:_** When Dean makes _one seemingly innocent _mistake and is permanently injured on a hunt, how will his hunter father and studious little brother handle the changes? Can Dean learn to hunt with a disability? Will his father ever fully really accept this new side of his eldest son? What happens when the boys are thrown into an extremely dangerous situation…can they cope in John's absence and with the new limitations placed on Dean. This story will contain flashbacks that will enlighten the readers of Dean and Sam's past as it pertains to everything about the recovery from this one mistake.

**_Legalities:_** I don't own any characters associated with Supernatural…they belong exclusively to Kripke and the CW network…I only play in their sandbox for my own amusement and yours. I am not making any money from this, it is a guilty pleasure.

This story is both canon and AU based on Dean's disability. I'm on an injured Dean kick right now…so bear with me. **This is NOT a SLASH story; it contains brotherly love, angst, and hurt/comfort only.**

*_And italics represent when the boys are signing and not speaking out loud.*_

**Chapter 6**

_Stepping out_

-_April 1997-_

Dean felt off. He couldn't feel his arms and his leg was sending tinges of fire scorching thru his entire body. He was debating on pushing his eyelids open when his world started to spin and he felt the rush of bile scream up his throat. He bit at his lower lip to keep from retching all over his own chest. It wasn't enough. The stench was enough to make him keep puking until he could hardly hold his head up. Once he'd emptied his stomach he pried his lids open and got his first look at the area where he'd been dragged. It was larger than the area where he'd broken through the upper crust of the surface. The spinning in his head was growing more and more rapid as he tried to focus his gaze.

Shadows off to his right side had him pulling tired eyes over, struggling to make out the shapes. His fear of the dark was still a presence, but so was his fear of losing his brother and his father. His warring emotions playing havoc with his conscious mind, his body trying to ignore the pain. Dean started to struggle as he noticed the lengthy monster watching him carefully from a perch just above another opening. The large head twisted and turned as the red eyes blinked in slow motion. The uncanny intelligence that he was reading there was making his stomach twist…or maybe it was the pain. He really couldn't be sure at this point; everything was starting to run together.

It occurred to Dean that if Sam and his father came after him…then this _thing_ was just using him as bait. His brother would be a sitting duck. The lack of feeling in his arms made him wish for the same thing in his leg. The pain had receded somewhat…_probably from lack of blood flow._

The motion of water dripping caught his wandering attention. Focus wasn't his friend at the moment. A slight flicker of light off somewhere to his left had him swiveling his head in that direction in a desperate bid to stay aware of his surroundings. That particular lesson had been drilled into him from the time he was a small boy…smaller even than when he'd learned about monsters and things that go bump in the night.

Dean's thoughts shifted to Sam and he allowed a long breath of air to slip past his chapped lips. Sam was everything that he wasn't. His little brother could get out of this life; he had a shot at the 'normal' they both so desperately craved. The complete silence inside his head reminded him that _he_ could never have that. He couldn't attend college, he couldn't work in the _real_ world…and he sure as hell couldn't forget everything that he knew.

XXXX

Sam limped along behind his father. His ankle hurt like a bitch, but he wasn't going to complain. They had to get back to Dean and he was the one that knew exactly where his brother had fallen. The trees were starting to whip dangerously with an incoming storm. The lightning in the distance a constant reminder that they didn't have much time left to find Dean. Sam ducked under a low hanging branch and reached up to push the leaves out his way. He nearly stumbled into his father's back when the man stopped suddenly. His fingers coming to his lips in a silent bid for Sam's attention. The boy's gaze followed his fathers and his mouth fell open in surprise. On the path directly in front of them was a mutilated corpse of a deer.

John stepped forward quietly. His eyes sharp for anything that seemed to be out of place…other than the deer. When he didn't immediately see anything, he waved Sam forward. Sam slipped from the shadows and carefully navigated the uneven terrain as he stepped up next to his father. "What happened to it?" He whispered. The deer had been ripped apart, wild animals didn't do this type of thing. They would kill and then eat…but they didn't eviscerate the body and spread the insides in a five-meter circle.

John groaned deep in his throat. "Wendigo." He said. Where ever Dean was…he'd been in the right track to finding the damn monster.

XXXX

_-December 2006-_

"Dean, please don't do this." Sam said softly as Dean pulled the second jacket over the first. His eyes were watching Sam's lips intently, so he knew that his older brother could understand what he was asking. "I've already lost mom…we don't know where dad is…or if…" He nearly choked on the next words. "Or if he'd even alive. Dean, I can't lost you too…I can't." Sam's face was a mask of anguish as he literally begged his brother to stay with him. At lease until the storm let up a bit and he stood a snowball's chance in hell at getting out of this without becoming a popsicle. Sam stared as his words landed on his brother. Dean turned blank eyes on him and shook his head.

"Sam…you're not gonna make it without medial attention…and I can't fix that leg." He gulped down the emotions rising in his chest. "I am not going to watch you die."

"But if you go out there you're just setting yourself up to do the same." Sam shot back immediately. The muscles on his neck popping out as he strained to get his point across to Dean.

Dean shook his head. "Doesn't matter, Sammy. I got you into this…I'm going to get you out."

"What are you talking about?" * _You didn't get me into anything, Dean. I chose to get in the damn car. It's not like you had a gun to my head. *_ He switched to sign language when Dean snorted at his question and dipped his head into silence.

_* This isn't a negotiation, Sam. I'm going. _* Dean signed quickly. He grabbed up the backpack and opened the door into the howling storm. Sam's eyes widened as he got a good look at the twisting swirls of white that were quickly burying the Impala. Nothing he said had made a difference to Dean…and nothing he could come up with had any shot of changing his brother's mind…so he remained silent. He watched as his brother hunkered down and stepped out into the raging blizzard. His sharp eyes catching Dean's hand rising to pinch at his neck…and that's when he saw the blood. It had dried after running down his brother's neck and disappearing down his back. A slight sway to Dean's stance gave Sam a second of contemplation as he realized that Dean hadn't escaped unscathed from the accident.

"Dean!" He called as the door slammed shut.

TBC…

**Author's Note**: _I know this is a shorter chapter. So I will get the next one up ASAP. Thanks to everyone that read and reviewed the last one... Alena and others... A special thank you to anyone that I cannot PM._

**Please Review: It only takes a moment and it helps me write. Thanks.**


	7. Falling Apart

**_Synopsis:_** When Dean makes _one seemingly innocent _mistake and is permanently injured on a hunt, how will his hunter father and studious little brother handle the changes? Can Dean learn to hunt with a disability? Will his father ever fully really accept this new side of his eldest son? What happens when the boys are thrown into an extremely dangerous situation…can they cope in John's absence and with the new limitations placed on Dean. This story will contain flashbacks that will enlighten the readers of Dean and Sam's past as it pertains to everything about the recovery from this one mistake.

**_Legalities:_** I don't own any characters associated with Supernatural…they belong exclusively to Kripke and the CW network…I only play in their sandbox for my own amusement and yours. I am not making any money from this, it is a guilty pleasure.

This story is both canon and AU based on Dean's disability. I'm on an injured Dean kick right now…so bear with me. **This is NOT a SLASH story; it contains brotherly love, angst, and hurt/comfort only.**

*_And italics represent when the boys are signing and not speaking out loud.*_

_**Previous**_** Chapter:**

"Dean, please don't do this." Sam said softly as Dean pulled the second jacket over the first. His eyes were watching Sam's lips intently, so he knew that his older brother could understand what he was asking. "I've already lost mom…we don't know where dad is…or if…" He nearly choked on the next words. "Or if he'd even alive. Dean, I can't lost you too…I can't." Sam's face was a mask of anguish as he literally begged his brother to stay with him. At lease until the storm let up a bit and he stood a snowball's chance in hell at getting out of this without becoming a popsicle. Sam stared as his words landed on his brother. Dean turned blank eyes on him and shook his head.

"Sam…you're not gonna make it without medial attention…and I can't fix that leg." He gulped down the emotions rising in his chest. "I am not going to watch you die."

"But if you go out there you're just setting yourself up to do the same." Sam shot back immediately. The muscles on his neck popping out as he strained to get his point across to Dean.

Dean shook his head. "Doesn't matter, Sammy. I got you into this…I'm going to get you out."

"What are you talking about?" * _You didn't get me into anything, Dean. I chose to get in the damn car. It's not like you had a gun to my head. *_ He switched to sign language when Dean snorted at his question and dipped his head into silence.

_* This isn't a negotiation, Sam. I'm going. _* Dean signed quickly. He grabbed up the backpack and opened the door into the howling storm. Sam's eyes widened as he got a good look at the twisting swirls of white that were quickly burying the Impala. Nothing he said had made a difference to Dean…and nothing he could come up with had any shot of changing his brother's mind…so he remained silent. He watched as his brother hunkered down and stepped out into the raging blizzard. His sharp eyes catching Dean's hand rising to pinch at his neck…and that's when he saw the blood. It had dried after running down his brother's neck and disappearing down his back. A slight sway to Dean's stance gave Sam a second of contemplation as he realized that Dean hadn't escaped unscathed from the accident.

"Dean!" He called as the door slammed shut.

XXXX

_**Chapter 7**_

_Falling Apart_

-_December 2006-_

Dean had pointedly made sure that he didn't look at his brother as the door slammed shut behind him. He shivered as the wind whipped past his face and the snow tried to tear through his jacket. The complete silence inside his head was disconcerting when he could see the strong gusts of wind pulling violently at the snow covered pine trees. He sighed and pulled his collar tighter around his neck and flipped on the flashlight. The slight tilt to his world had him stopping for a moment and gathering his strength before pushing into the darkness. His eyes flickered back to the car one more time and he thinned his lips as he saw Sam staring at him through the passenger window. He was careful to ignore the dry feeling to his tongue and the sudden desperate urge for water. Dean had no intention of taking any of the food or water from the Impala…Sam might need them.

His eyes scanned the area, looking for anything that resembled a path; he shifted a bit and blinked in surprise. Movement was going to be slow and painstaking as his head battled with his equilibrium. Dean's eyes caught the constantly shifting snow as he tried to ignore the cold that seemed to be seeping into every part of him. His toes were already cold and getting colder as he trudged forward toward the hill where there were parallel impacts beneath the snow-covered ground. He assumed that this was where they must have barreled down the hill away from the road. He hadn't been conscious at that time, so he had no idea how far they'd travelled from the highway to where the Impala had slammed into the large tree. Another wave of dizziness assaulted him and he found himself on his knees without knowing exactly how he'd gotten there. "Man up, Dean." He grumbled to himself. Sometimes he found that even though he couldn't hear his words, it still made him feel better to speak out loud.

Images of Sam and his broken leg drove Dean back to his feet as he swallowed the pain and shook his head to focus his eyes. He wasn't about to fail here…Sammy needed to get to a doctor. And if he was completely honest with himself, he knew that he wasn't in the best condition at the moment. He hoped like hell that they hadn't gotten too far from the road, but the Winchester luck just wasn't that good.

The snow was getting deeper the further he moved into the forest. As the terrain got steeper, Dean found that he was moving more sluggishly. His fingers were numb from where he was holding the flashlight and his he couldn't feel his legs below his hips. He was grateful for one thing though…his being deaf didn't make a hell of a lot difference in trying to rescue his brother. The biting sting of the icy snow was starting to impact his breathing as he trudged along. The drifts were coming up to his knees in some places. He was constantly trying to cover his face, but the need to stay vertical was making him breathe in far more of the snow than he knew he should be.

Dean's eyes flickered around constantly in an attempt to stay aware of his surroundings. The low light, made even worse by the raging storm, was making that difficult and his inability to hear didn't help him either. He pushed forward, the lack of feeling travelling slowly up his body and eventually causing his feet to catch on a hidden root. Dean cried out as he tumbled to his knees, his hands slamming into the snow and his ankle twisting cruelly as his body came to a halt. He swallowed hard as the pain lanced through his system and the nausea overtook him. He hunched over and retched into the snow as the dizziness wound across his eyes.

The pain was white-hot as it clashed with the blistering cold that was sapping his energy faster than he could muster it. "Damn-it…" He muttered angrily. He blew out the breath that had gotten caught in his throat and hauled himself to his feet ignoring the stab of fire that bolted up his leg. He knew he was in trouble when he was no longer shivering from the cold. First sign of hypothermia…no more shaking. _Jack Frost sure is an asshole._ He thought silently. He and Sam had spent so much time training as kids with their father that some of the lessons were like a reading a book he simply couldn't forget. The loss of his hearing when he'd been younger had put a serious crimp in his love of movies. He missed watching them with sound and picking up the obnoxious lines that he could then spout at Sam later, mostly to irritate his little brother. A smile pulled at the corners of his lips at the memories of Sam and the annoyed 'bitch-face' that he would always throw at Dean.

A shift in the storm had him hunching down as a particularly strong gust of wind blasted through the trees. Dean flashed the light around and groaned when the beam flickered. _Great, the cold is sapping the battery._ He thought as he dropped his head down onto his chest in frustration. He was just turning around when he felt the ground give way beneath him and he crashed into a tree, his head the part of his body that stopped his uncontrolled spiral down the mountain. Instant darkness closed his thoughts as he curled into a ball.

XXXX

Sam watched in frustration as his brother ignored him and shoved the door of the car closed. He leaned against the back of the seat and tried not to think about whether or not he would see Dean again. How could this be ending this way? They'd been on their way to find their father…not even on a hunt. Things couldn't end this way…dying in some unknown part of the mountain forests…alone. The engine whined as the Impala worked to run it's heater in sub-zero temperatures…temperatures...temperatures that his brother was out in. _While I sit here in the nice warm car with the damn engine running._ He reached up and ran his fingers through his long dark hair, memories of what their lives had been assaulted him.

A part of Sam wondered if he'd been selfish when he'd insisted on going to college and leaving his brother and his father to a life of saving the world from the supernatural. It was an odd sensation, wondering that. He'd never doubted his decision to leave until he'd been pulled back into this crazy world that was their past and apparently their future. The things that they had lost…he ground his teeth together as the pain of that line of thinking sank into his heart. "I can't lose you, Dean." He said softly into the empty interior of the car.

Sam twisted around and grabbed the medical bag from where Dean had left it on the backseat. He rummaged through the olive colored bag until he came across a Sam-splint. "Bingo!" He said. He folded it until it made a pretty decent looking splint and then sucked in a steading breath before he leaned over and wrapped it against the broken bone. He nearly bit through his lower lip as white hot fire rushed from the wound through his body. "Argggg…" He cried. Sam quickly wrapped the vet-wrap around the splint and tied it off. He knew that his going out into the blizzard wasn't a good idea, but hell…he'd made worse choices in his life and leaving his brother to die as a result of this accident wasn't going to be one of them.

His fingers riffled through the clothes still left in the back of the car and found that there were still some warm clothing left. He did his best to layer up and then grabbed at his jacket. Sam inhaled deeply and then pushed open the door of the Impala. He was grateful to see that the storm seemed to be letting up and the wind had died to merely a whisper of what it had been. The snow was still falling, but it had shifted from knife edged flakes to the huge Christmas snowflakes that everybody loved this time of year. He clenched his teeth and reached for the edges of the car and the door and pulled himself to his feet. The pain was nearly intolerable…nearly. And maybe for a normal person it would have been, but Sam wasn't a normal person. He was a Winchester.

XXXX

-_April 1997_-

Sam had kinda put two and two together and he knew that it was likely that they were after the Indian legend. But to have it stated so bluntly by his father had him wrapping his arms around his mid-section in silent denial. Dean wouldn't be able to hear the thing coming and there is a good chance that the area that he'd fallen into was part of the beasts cave. Wendigos' weren't known for their charming dispositions. The things were extraordinarily intelligent and they were phenomenal hunters…they were also violent as hell. The potential that his brother might not make it out of this one was weighing heavily on his mind as he followed his father silently. The lightning had increase in frequency and the rain was starting to fall more earnestly as they push forward.

"How much further, Sam?" John asked as he strained to see into the darkness. The flashlight wasn't a lot of help as the rain soaked foliage soaked up the soft beam of yellow light.

Sam reached up and wiped his dripping bangs out of his eyes and squinted into the black forest._ He had no clue_. The forest seemed to have changed as the sun dropped and the spring weather had rolled in from the North. "Uh…I'm not sure…quarter of a mile…maybe."

John stopped in his tracks and turned to stare at his youngest son in disbelief. "Sam, didn't you keep track of how far you travelled?" He groaned and scrubbed a hand down his face. "I thought I'd taught you boys better than that." John finished as he turned back toward the trail and trudged forward, shaking his head.

Sam swallowed the emotions that flooded into his throat. _Was he just blaming me for what happened to Dean?_ The thought repeated itself over and over inside Sam's head as he simply followed his father along the muddy trail.

John knew that he wasn't being completely fair to his youngest boy. But he was seriously frustrated, scared, and tired as hell. And it was a becoming a struggle to just put one foot in front of the other. His thoughts turned to his eldest boy and he had to swallow the lump that formed in his throat. Dean had managed to take a rotten situation, the accident in the graveyard, and turn it into somewhat of an advantage. The kid worked harder than any other hunter that John had ever worked with. He'd train in any type of weather and the boy never complained about having been dealt a shitty hand in life. John would have trusted that kid on any hunt, for any type of monster, he was that good. How Dean had managed to do that, John didn't have clue.

Sam shivered as the water pelted his body and quickly soaked through his thin jacket. He was at the age where he was mostly skin and bones…all legs and sinewy muscle as he grew at an exponential rate. An that meant that he got cold…fast. The chattering of his teeth must have been audible over the storm, because his father twisted around and was quickly pulling off his own jacket and handing it over to Sam.

"Put this on." He said gruffly before twisting back to the trail and starting forward again before Sam could protest. The youngest Winchester struggled to get the material over his soaking wet clothes, then limped after his father.

John stopped suddenly in his tracks, reaching back to stop Sam from crashing into him. He nodded his head toward the ground and Sam stretched out his neck to see what his father saw…it was the hole. The one that his brother had disappeared down. His father pointed at the hole and Sam nodded his agreement that this was indeed the spot where Dean had fallen through. The wind was whipping around them as the rain swirled like a tornado in rapid gusts of cyclonic action, making vision sketchy at best. They were careful as they approached the dark hole, avoiding the soft edge of the broken earth.

XXXX

Dean's eyes rolled around inside his head and he struggled to push his eyelids open. _Damn, I'm tired_. The nausea was gripping his insides like an iron vice and the pain that was shooting up his leg was making the saliva pool in his mouth. Even if he'd been hungry he knew that he couldn't have kept an ounce of food down. He blinked slowly as he waited for his eyes to focus. There was little light in the cave, but his pupils were doing their best to use what little bit there was. A constant drip, drip, drip on his shoulder had him spinning his eyes in that direction. He couldn't tell if the Wendigo was still in the cavern with him, or if he'd been left alone.

_Not like I can do anything about that. _He ground his teeth together in frustration as he struggled to loosen the ropes biting painfully into the soft skin on his wrists. Dean couldn't tell if the rough hemp had broken the skin yet or not, or if the moisture was from the rain. He could feel the shaking of his hands as he struggled, but there was no give to the ropes.

He never saw the thing that swiped at his body causing it to swing like a pendulum. Pain blossoming along his ribs, informing Dean that something was definitely damaged. Another sudden impact near his hip, had Dean gasping as the motion jarred his teeth and bones. A grimace smeared it's way across his face and he groaned as something again batted at his body. The injured leg swinging uselessly beneath him, sending sparks of fire racing up his body.

_Pain is such a bitch._ Dean thought. His entire life, it seemed like she had been the only constant companion in his life…pain. _Oh and grief_…those two were the _constants_ of his life. The part of him that was well trained knew that pain was a survival tool. _It lets you know you aren't dead yet._ But there were those occasions where she got a bit overzealous. _Like right now._

The splitting headache wasn't doing his skull any favors either. Part of him was grateful for the low light, because the daggers that were splitting his head open and the fire that was burning behind his retinas, could have been so much worse.

Dean knew he probably had a concussion in addition to the busted leg. He had all the telltale signs of a fairly serious one…hell; he'd had enough of them in his short life to know. Thoughts of Sam and the very real possibility that he may never see him again had Dean blinking suddenly in remorse. A flash of light had him trying to see back over his shoulder. He wanted to cry out. He wanted to warn his father and his brother, since there was no other way that a beam of light would be coming toward him down a…long abandoned tunnel. He blinked at the irony of that particular thought. His eyes drilling into the darkness, the pin pricks of pain forcing him to blink rapidly to avoid the formation of tears.

He was only dimly aware of the presence of the creature as the large shadow of a human moved carefully into the large cavern. A second smaller shape limped into the room and Dean knew beyond any doubt that it was family. "Sammy." He tried to call…the tight painful feeling in his throat told him that it probably came out sounding like a pathetic croak.

"Dean?" John called. He could have sworn that he heard a voice in the darkness. He spun his eyes around the cavern and swallowed non-existent saliva when he saw a body hanging from the rafters of the cave. "Ah…shit." He muttered as Sam tried to see around him. Their voices echoed through the room and his blue-green eyes finally fell on his brother.

"Dean!" Sam cried as he rushed forward. John's arm shot out and wrapped around his youngest son's waist to stop him. A surprised squeak of indignation and dismay worked its way up his throat.

"Shhhh…Sam." John said as he set his son on the floor again. "It's in here." He whispered.

Dean glanced in the direction of his father. He watched as Sam tried to rush to him, the limp in his step evident to Dean even in the darkness. Somehow his little brother had been injured trying to help him. The guilt of that observation flooded through him. Both of the men slipped carefully through the edge of the cavern, closing the distance as John pulled the knife from his belt. He dropped his eyes closed and reached up to slice through the rope.

Dean had just enough time to think how much this was going to hurt when he hit the ground before his body was falling. He crashed into the floor of the cave and couldn't hold back the hiss of pain as his leg twisted under him in the wrong direction. His eyebrows cut downward in pain and he rolled on his back waiting for the fire to pass. He tried to pull himself to his feet, but his head felt heavy and sluggish. There was a tingle at the base of his skull and he struggled to focus. A face was suddenly very near his and Dean widened his eyes and then blinked forcefully, trying to clear his vision.

"Sammy…" He grunted. The light was too dim for him to make out what his little brother was saying. A combination of feelings flooded him and he allowed himself to be drawn into a hug.

The Wendigo chose that exact moment to realize that his prey was making a break for it and take action. It sprang from its perch and landed near Sam's feet. Dean watched as his brother tumbled backwards onto his ass. Their father lurched forward, but the creature whipped around and grated its talons along John's face.

Part of Dean wanted to allow the darkness to wash over him. To take him from this world of death and pain, but the sight of Sam scrambling to his knees had him inhaling his own weakness and pushing his bound hands into the rocky floor in a desperate attempt to get up. He couldn't leave his brother to this world of torn tragedies. Dean knew that his life had been torn apart the night his mother had died, but that hadn't been completely true for Sam. He'd never known anything else. He'd always had the strength of his father and brother to rely on…and that wasn't going to change tonight. Something rolled near his questing fingers and had him trying to gain purchase on the metal canister. _Flamethrower…_

TBC…

**Author's Note:** _So they are out of the car and still in the cave. Hope you guys like the update. I'll try and get another one up in the next couple of days. Thank you to_ _all of you who have read and reviewed, and to those of you I cannot PM- Alena...please let me know what you thing of this newest chapter._

**Please Review: I could use the support right now…**


	8. A Wish and a Prayer

**_Synopsis:_** When Dean makes _one seemingly innocent _mistake and is permanently injured on a hunt, how will his hunter father and studious little brother handle the changes? Can Dean learn to hunt with a disability? Will his father ever fully really accept this new side of his eldest son? What happens when the boys are thrown into an extremely dangerous situation…can they cope in John's absence and with the new limitations placed on Dean. This story will contain flashbacks that will enlighten the readers of Dean and Sam's past as it pertains to everything about the recovery from this one mistake.

**_Legalities:_** I don't own any characters associated with Supernatural…they belong exclusively to Kripke and the CW network…I only play in their sandbox for my own amusement and yours. I am not making any money from this, it is a guilty pleasure.

This story is both canon and AU based on Dean's disability. I'm on an injured Dean kick right now…so bear with me. **This is NOT a SLASH story; it contains brotherly love, angst, and hurt/comfort only.**

*_And italics represent when the boys are signing and not speaking out loud.*_

**Chapter 8**

_A Wish and a Prayer_

-_April 1997_-

Dean's fingers closed around the cool exterior of the metal container and he groaned as he pulled it close to his body. The dizziness was washing over him and making it difficult to focus as he tried to see where his brother and his father were at in relation to the Wendigo. His father was knocked backwards into the rock wall, his head colliding with the ragged stone. He grunted as he slid to the floor. Dean shook his head and groaned as he reached down for the lighter in his pocket. The creature rushed forward, it's claws extended and the face a feral mask of rage.

Sam was trying to get to him and Dean was praying that he was too slow. He couldn't watch his little brother and the Wendigo all at the same time. He was having a difficult time just staying conscious, the rush of blood inside his head amplified by the fact that he couldn't hear anything else. The creature twisted and finally noticed the younger boy. It's massive head tilted to the side and Dean could almost swear that the damn thing grinned as it shifted its track, heading toward Sam.

Dean screamed as soon as his fuzzy brain caught on to what was going on. "SAM!" He pushed the pain down and pulled himself to his hands and knees sinking back onto his haunches. He quickly raised the canister and struck the lighter, a bright blue blaze lit up the cave's interior.

"Dean!" John called loudly, it was a knee-jerk reaction and he knew that his son couldn't actually hear him. He watched as Dean lit up the Wendigo inches before it attacked Sam. John exhaled the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, only to have it catch as Dean tumbled forward and hit the ground…hard. Sam squeaked his dismay and rushed forward at a limping gate. He fell to his knees next to the unconscious form of his older brother. The big brother that had just saved his life…again.

"We need to get him out of here dad." Sam said as his shaking fingers carded through Dean's soaked hair. He bit at his lip as he felt the heat radiating off his brother. "He's got a fever."

John knelt next to his boys, his head swimming as he forced his eyes to focus on the limp body of his eldest son. The injuries making him cringe as he took in the busted leg and the gashes that littered the teenagers body. He reached out, his fingers shaking slights, and felt for a pulse on Dean's neck, it was way too fast and fluttery beneath his fingertips for comfort. He swallowed the fear as he tried to haul himself to his feet, the ground wavering beneath him as he did.

"Whoa…dad, are you okay?" Sam asked. His eyes were wide as he looked between his brother and his father. None of them was in very good condition at the moment…and they needed to get Dean to a hospital…like now.

John nodded and tried to smile through the dizziness that threatened to send him to the ground beside Dean. "Yeah, Sammy…I'm fine. Can you help me with your brother?" His eyes flickered over to Sam's ankle and then back to the kids worried expressive eyes.

Sam swallowed and then nodded. "Yeah…" He ignored the thrum of pain that was a constant reminder of that damn tree root. "Yeah, I can help." He forced himself to his feet and then grimaced as he took hold of the fire racing up his leg and shoved it down to a manageable level.

Twenty minutes later both Winchesters were soaked with sweat…fighting their own injuries as they carried Dean down the mineshaft toward the old entrance.

Dean moaned and Sam nearly dropped him in his haste to talk to his brother. "Dean? You okay?" His voice had been reduced to a mere shadow of what it generally was. But Sam wasn't so macho that he wouldn't admit that he was scared.

"Sam…" Dean asked as his eyes swiveled and crashed into his father's worried gaze. He started to sign, but then found that it took more effort than simply speaking outloud. "Dad…?"

"Yeah, buddy. It's us. You had us scared there for a minute." John ignored the fact that his son's leg was fractured and that there appeared to be a pretty serious concussion involved…with all of them at this point.

Dean swallowed and then furrowed his eyebrows when he noticed Sam's limp. "Happened?" Inside his head all the words had been there, but when he tried to speak somehow some of them got lost in translation. He kept thinking that he should be able to understand his family better…but the silence and rushing inside his skull was making that hard.

"Stupid tree root and the dark…not a good combination." Sam said with a snort of disgust.

"Okay?" Dean couldn't _not_ ask, it didn't matter whether or not he understood what had happened…he needed to hear it from Sam. He needed to know that his little brother was okay and that the damn Wendigo hadn't gotten a swipe in.

Sam looked down and blinked back tears. "Yeah…I'm fine, Dean."

Dean nodded and then his eyes rolled back in head as the injuries claimed their prize and dragged him back into unconsciousness.

"Dean!" Sam called as he looked up at his father with wide terrified eyes.

Two hours and several phone calls later; Dean was being loaded into an ambulance. John hadn't dared drive the boys. He could barely concentrate as he made the 911 call, John wouldn't risk further injuring his sons because of his pride.

Sam limped into Dean's room after they got his brother stabilized and checked in for the night. If they hadn't called for help when they did, then he would have lost his big brother. Dean's temperature skyrocketed on the way to the hospital and he went into V-tac as his heart protested the rise in temperature. The paramedics had shocked him twice to bring him back, but the point was that they _had_ brought him back.

Sam's blue-green eyes glazed over and he wiped at the wetness that rolled down his pale cheeks. He finally stepped closer to the bed, his gaze sweeping over how small Dean looked in the brilliant white sheets. He gulped his reaction down and then moved a chair closer to the bed, sinking into it. He reached out and gently took his brothers hand. "I'm sorry you got hurt, Dean." He sniffled and wiped at his nose, with the sleeve of his shirt. "But you're gonna be okay…" Sam looked at the far too still face of his best friend and brother and hiccupped before continuing. "You have to be okay. We need you. Me and dad, we _need_ you." A slight movement near his hand caused him to flash his eyes down. Dean's hand had shifted and closed around Sam's sleeve. Somehow even without his hearing, the oldest Winchester had always known how to comfort Sam.

It was Dean's way of telling his little brother that they weren't done yet, that he would fight and that they would make it through this. Just like they'd made it through every other crappy thing that had happened in their lives.

"Okay, Dean…" Sam said as he shifted his hand and squeezed his brother's hand.

XXXX

-_December 2006-_

Dean pushed his way back toward consciousness an untold amount of time later. The complete silence of the forest was causing a great deal of confusion as he sifted through his chaotic thoughts. His last memories had been ones of watching the howling winds push at the trees and the driving snow trying to freeze him…but now the forest was still, but for the huge snowflakes that fell like soft cotton from a tree. He knew that he'd been unconscious for a long time; mostly by the way his throat was sore and dry. He'd never wanted a bottle of water as much as he did at this very moment. His body felt like it had been static, in one position for far too long.

_First things first…assess his condition_. Splitting headache? …_check_. Whether that was from the crash or his trip down the side of the hill…he couldn't be sure. He tried to move and was hit with a wave of dizziness and vertigo that sent him crashing forward onto his hands and knees. He vomited until there was nothing left but bile and the agonizing headache. He sat still and tried to take control of his pain like their father had taught him. It didn't help; his head was still killing him.

He reached up and groaned at the wetness he felt at the base of his head, it was starting to run down his shoulder blade. _Definitely a concussion then_… He'd figured, but it was never a good thing to have it confirmed in the middle of a rescue mission. Dean was also cold. The outer layer of his jacket was soaked and the inner layers weren't much better as the snow continued to fall. So he probably had the beginnings of exposure as well. The shivering that was racking his body wasn't entirely due to the cold. The pain that he was in seemed to be adding to the reaction as the adrenaline wore off.

He snorted when he realized that there was a very good chance that he would die out here. That with all the terrifying monsters that he and their father had fought over the years…it was the environment that was going to take him out. Dean tried to focus on what their father would do in this type of situation… _Easy, he wouldn't have gotten himself into this type of situation._ The self-recriminating thoughts were nothing new for Dean…but he didn't appreciate the timing. As he leaned against the tree and waited for the feeling to return to his fingers…it didn't…he found his thoughts turning back to Sam.

Dean lay there for moment allowing his eyelids to fall shut, his heart beating a mile a minute. He paused and reached up to wipe the sheet of sweat from his forehead. He tried to ignore the protest of his muscles every time he moved more than a couple of inches. He finally gritted his teeth and started to force his body up. When his vision started to blur, he shook his head in an attempt to shake off the exhaustion. His ankle was screaming at him in protest as he tested his weight on it. "Son of a bitch!" He said out loud. It had taken him a long time to adjust to his hearing loss, but on occasion he still found that he spoke aloud…without meaning to. But Sam had been there for him when he'd needed it most…so he would just have to swallow the pain and be there for his brother now.

He noticed a long sturdy looking branch sticking up out of the newly fallen snow. He moved with painstaking moves toward it. After several steps he found that his ankle was becoming less of a problem, because he couldn't _feel_ anything below his thighs. _That's not good._ He thought as he plunged his hands into the snow and pulled the branch free in one tug. The momentum sent him crashing to his ass and pain shot up through his entire body.

He wanted to laugh…although the situation was anything but funny…and he wanted to cry at the same time. He'd hauled Sam out of his nice cozy life and now they were both going to die because Dean wasn't strong enough to get them out of this. He ground his teeth together and shoved his back up to his feet. Dean leaned against the stick, trying to determine whether or not it would hold his weight. Once he'd determined that it would, he shoved his dizziness back down and started moving up the hill again. His eyes were adjusting to the light, so he was at least able to see the trees surrounding him. The vertigo was hovering at the edges of his vision, making it difficult to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. But he managed.

He didn't know how far he actually made it when his legs gave out beneath him and he crashed to ground. His breathing was coming in thick raspy heaves as he struggled to breathe in the cold night air. He wasn't sure if it had been an hour or five since he'd left Sam in the Impala. Dean was freezing cold and on the brink of self-doubt. Maybe he'd made a bad call? Leaving Sam behind…_hell, it wouldn't be the first time I did that._ He thought with an internal sigh. The white-hot burn in his lungs was competing with the skull splitting thrum inside his head and the constant beat of agony in his ankle as he trudged forward. He lay with his face in the snow as images if his family flared across his eyelids.

XXXX

Sam was gritting his teeth in pain as he hopped through the snow. His inner shirt was soaked with sweat from the effort and trying to keep a handle on his not so insignificant pain was making him grind his teeth together. He'd been moving slowly in the direction of his brother's footprints. Sam figured that he had to be quite a ways behind his brother, but as he stared into the now softly falling snow he blinked in surprise. A lump in the snow just ahead of him looked an awful lot like a body. He only took a moment to drop his eyelids closed and shoot up a silent prayer that it wasn't his brother…or a bear…cuz he really didn't think he could take on bear right now.

He stared to call out when he was suddenly struck with the memory that Dean couldn't hear him…it wouldn't matter how loudly he called. Sam moved in a slow methodical manner until he reached the lump and then pushed at it with his stick. There was no movement, but he did catch a slight groan of pain. "Dean!" He said without thinking as he thrust his broken leg out in front of him and bit back the need to scream as he sank to the ground. Sam reached out and gently pulled at the lump in an attempt to reveal the front.

Dean's face rolled into view and Sam couldn't hold back the cry of dismay as he saw the bruising that discolored his jaw and the blood marring his brother's face. His gaze travelled along Dean's body, worry etched into his visage as he searched for other injuries. He dropped his head onto his chest when he saw the way that Dean's ankle was twisted beneath him. _Either badly twisted or broken, Dean._ He thought. Sam reached into the pack he'd grabbed and pulled out the small medical kit. After checking for a pulse, which was way too fast, thank-you-very-much, he moved onto to staunching the blood still oozing from his brother's head. The heat radiating off Dean's body was more than a little worrisome. But Sam could only deal with one thing at a time, so he dealt with what he could see…blood.

After getting that taken care of, he glanced around the small grove they were in. He wondered if there was a _snowballs chance in hell_ that he might signal on his cell phone. He knew that they'd managed to move up the hill, so it was possible. Praying to every God or deity that he'd ever heard of Sam pulled his phone from his pocket. He sagged when they finally caught a break…he had one bar. It wasn't enough to make a call, but it was enough to get a text message out. His eyes flickered to Dean and he frowned. Normally, he would have texted his brother if he needed anything. It was disconcerting to see Dean out cold in the snow. Sam tried to maneuver his body so that he was between Dean and the frozen ground. The fact that his brother wasn't shivering had Sam more than a little worried.

He flipped the phone open and pulled up Bobby's number. The guy wasn't close to where they were, but he could call the authorities and get someone up there searching for them, before he and Dean froze to death.

_Bobby, this is Sam…Winchester. Dean and I ran off highway 5 in the Sierra's near the border. Car in ditch, both hurt…bad. Call 911, mile marker 35…ASAP. _He swallowed and hit 'send'. Sam held his breath as he waited for the text to go thru. It felt like forever before he got the confirmation that the text had been delivered…

TBC…

Author's Note: _Thank you for taking the time to read and review this last chapter. The boys are almost out, so hang with me. Thanks to anyone that I cannot PM...Alena and guests._


	9. Family Matters

**_Synopsis:_** When Dean makes _one seemingly innocent _mistake and is permanently injured on a hunt, how will his hunter father and studious little brother handle the changes? Can Dean learn to hunt with a disability? Will his father ever fully really accept this new side of his eldest son? What happens when the boys are thrown into an extremely dangerous situation…can they cope in John's absence and with the new limitations placed on Dean. This story will contain flashbacks that will enlighten the readers of Dean and Sam's past as it pertains to everything about the recovery from this one mistake.

**_Legalities:_** I don't own any characters associated with Supernatural…they belong exclusively to Kripke and the CW network…I only play in their sandbox for my own amusement and yours. I am not making any money from this, it is a guilty pleasure.

This story is both canon and AU based on Dean's disability. I'm on an injured Dean kick right now…so bear with me. **This is NOT a SLASH story; it contains brotherly love, angst, and hurt/comfort only.**

*_And italics represent when the boys are signing and not speaking out loud.*_

_**Chapter 9**_

_Family Matters_

Sam stared out into the pitch-black distance. His eyes struggling to adjust to the lack of light in the center of the forest. The snow was offering some reflection of the limited light, but not enough to be sure they were safe. He inhaled deeply and the intense scent of pine invaded his nostrils, he kept his hand on Dean's chest feeling the soft rise and fall as he waited for his brother to wake up. The ground was cold and wet and he knew the longer he stayed seated in the snow the worse it was going to get. Sam already noticed that _he_ was shivering a lot less than he should be. Slight movement beneath his fingers had him looking down at the slowly fluttering eyelids of his older brother. Dean groaned and his arms twitched as he reached up and grasped at the base of his head.

Sam's thoughts turned back to that night in the Wendigo's cave. The one where he'd thought that Dean was going to die. As he looked at their current situation, he couldn't help but see the similarities. Stuck in the middle of nowhere…both injured…depending on someone else to save them. He glanced down when his brother started moving.

"Ugh…" Dean moaned quietly. The pounding between his ears was making him want to slam his eyelids shut again. It took him a moment to remember where he was or why he was so damn cold.

Sam looked down and he bit at his lip as he tried to keep from shivering hard enough to jostle his brother. "Dean…" He said. Sam's fingers ghosted along Dean's arm to let him know he was there.

"Sammy?" Dean shifted and shoved himself upright, his head spinning in pain and his stomach rolling with nausea as he settled against the tree. He couldn't feel his legs…or his ass…as a matter of fact; he couldn't feel most of his body. "Holy…shit…ouch." He whispered harshly. There was a fiery burn of pain lancing through his ankle…not to mention the agony that seemed to be imbedded inside his shoulder. And then there was the dizziness that continued to assault his equilibrium. He looked in the direction the touch had come from and tried to force his fuzzy vision to focus. "How…where…" He was frustrated when his thoughts were popping like bubbles and he was losing his train of thought before he even got the words out.

* _I managed to get a text message out. Hopefully Bobby gets it_. * Sam signed as his eyes flashed around their exposed position and then back to his brother. * _I think we need to get back to the car._ *

Sam watched as Dean's forehead furrowed and he tried to interpret the sign language. * _Neither of us is going to make it back to the highway, Dean. Bobby's gonna come._ * Sam didn't know if he was lying to his brother or if they'd actually freeze to death waiting for the old hunter to rescue them. But he _knew_ that if they stayed out here…they would die.

Just as he saw his brother getting ready to argue with him, his phone buzzed. He shifted and pulled the dying phone from his interior pocket. The air turned into a cloud of white mist as he breathed out a sigh of relief.

_On my way…sent authorities…snow is causing problems…will be there soon. –B-_

Sam's gaze flashed back to Dean. "He's coming." The relief on his older brother's face let him know that Dean had read his lips. He knew that there was someone coming to get them.

Dean nodded and they each struggled to their feet. A wet racking cough worked its way up and exploded out of Dena's chest as he breathed too deeply. It felt as the though the snowflakes were cutting swaths out of his lungs as he struggled to control the spasms. He coughed until he could barely pull in a breath of air, his ribs protesting violently. Although he wasn't sure if it was from coughing or from the fall. He bit at the inside of his cheek and turned his face from Sam's worried eyes. "I'm…fine." He rasped. Sam shook his head as soon as Dean turned away. His brother soooo _wasn't _okay.

He knew that Dean wouldn't appreciate him hovering like a mother hen. But he'd heard that type of cough before…inside the cave…and they'd nearly lost Dean. Their father had been there night and he'd made sure that both boys had made it to the hospital…but it had been touch and go for several days.

Sam carefully pushed himself to his feet and clenched his teeth against the stabbing pain in his leg. He looked down and winced when he saw the distinct patch of red staining his pants. He hoped that it was dark enough that Dean couldn't see it. He leaned heavily on the large stick and reached down to help pull Dean to his feet. The gasp of pain from his brother made him cringe, but he knew that they had to get back…or they were both dead.

Dean swallowed and tried to take the majority of his weight. The trees went in and out of focus as he tried to keep his legs under him. The silence inside his head was obnoxious since his eyes weren't cooperating either.

It took them most of the remaining night to make it back to the Impala. By the time the car came into view, it was covered in snow several inches thick. It was more of a huge lump in the snow that anything else…and it looked _cold_. Sam had turned the car off and now he was praying that it would start back up as he pulled the door open and watched as his brother leaned heavily against the hood. Sam's leg was throbbing and he knew that Dean had gotten far too quiet for his comfort…or even quieter than a deaf person usually was. He coughed again and doubled over as the spasms racked his body. Sam watched with rising concern as his brother struggled. He couldn't help with any of this. All he could do was be there for his big brother. Again he was assaulted with the memories of that one hunt. That was the moment when Sam knew that this life was gonna kill them and he needed to get the hell out.

Dean limped slowly to the driver's side, pulling the door open and slipping inside his beloved car. He supposed that if he was going to die, the Impala wasn't a bad place to do it. He leaned his head back and allowed the desolation of their situation to wash over him. The pressure on his shoulder had him turning tired eyes in his brother's direction. Sam didn't say anything as he watched Dean's eyelids slip open and closed slowly. He reached over and slid the key into the ignition and then sent up a silent prayer as he twisted it.

The Impala roared to life and he blew out a slow breath. Dean managed to smile slightly. "Knew…she wouldn't let us down…" His head lolled to the side and Sam knew that he'd just passed out…with a freaking concussion.

"Shit…Dean…no man, ya gotta stay awake…come on…" He pushed at his brother's shoulder and then cringed when he remembered that Dean had injured that shoulder. A moan at least gave him hope that his brother wasn't entirely out of it. A moment later the glazed green eyes turned toward him. He didn't speak but at last he was looking at Sam. So that was something. He reached out and patted Dean's knee softly. "I know you can't really see my lips, brother. But I'm gonna talk…maybe it's just to keep myself awake…I don't know…but I'm gonna sit here and talk to you."

A slight nod to Dean's head had his lips twitching. Sam started talking…and once he opened those floodgates he couldn't close them. He talked about school; about Jessica…he talked about how much he'd missed Dean. Every once in a while he'd look over, expecting his brother to have drifted off again. But Dean was watching his lips as the light filtered through the melting snow on the windshield. He found that he rambled through all the things that he wished his brother could hear. And that brought on the guilt…not guilt about what had happened to Dean all those years ago in the cemetery…but guilt because he could hear and Dean couldn't. He could have a normal life…whatever that means anymore. Dean would never have that.

"Stop thinking…so much, Sammy." Dean mumbled as he swallowed around the tight burning in his throat.

Sam's shoulders shook with laughter. _* Can't help it. * _He leaned back against the seat just as the car's engine sputtered. "Ah shit…" he grumbled. Sam looked over at the gas gauge. It was on 'E'. Dean must have felt it because he forced himself upright and glared at the panel. It was like he was being betrayed as the engine sputtered again and the car died. Which meant that the heater died with it.

"Damn-it." Dean's raspy voice filled up the silence. He started to cough again and Sam reached into the back seat grabbing the last bottle of water. His brother shook his head as his fingers came up to cover his mouth. Sam didn't miss the slight speckles of blood that covered Dean's pale skin when he finally got control again. This was the worst Christmas they'd ever had…and that included the one that he'd learned monsters were real.

Sam looked down at his leg and groaned when he noticed the patch of crimson was a lot bigger than it had been the night before. He shifted so that Dean couldn't see it. He could feel the lethargy starting as exhaustion settled in.

A knock on the window caused Sam to jump. He couldn't hold back the cry of pain as his leg twisted and bone shifted. "Son of a bitch!"

Dean didn't move as Sam focused on breathing through the pain. The fact that his brother didn't even react when Sam had hit him accidently when he shifted made Sam's worry climb. He managed to focus on the window and he blinked when he saw the brown round of a sheriff. Sam forced the door open; it wasn't any colder outside than it was inside the Impala. He shivered and turned to see the cop looking into his brother's window.

"Officer." Sam said.

"You boys been out here all night?" The sheriff was staring at the amount of snow piled up on the car. It had obviously been out in the snowstorm the previous night. "Sam and Dean…" He looked at a notebook and then back at Sam. "Winchester?"

"Yeah." Sam answered. The man nodded and glanced back at Dean's silent form.

"He okay?"

Sam inhaled and shook his head. "No."

The guy nodded and pulled out his radio. "Your uncle called in. Guess you two were supposed to be at some family dinner earlier yesterday. He got worried when you didn't show up." He walked away a few steps as he called in their location.

Sam reached over and shook Dean. His brother's head rolled from side to side. "Come on, Dean…you're starting to scare me."

Almost like, somehow, his brother could hear those words, Dean's eyelids fluttered. He turned his head and glanced at Sam, his eyes blinking slowly in the bright morning light. "You…okay?" His speech was slow and slurred and it did nothing to alleviate his little brother's concerns.

Sam's eyes widened when he saw the blown pupils trying to focus on his face. "Dean…" He said softly.

The wait for the airlift was a lot faster than Sam would have thought. The trip to the local hospital wasn't as quick as he'd hoped it would be. They both needed medical attention; his thoughts were starting to stray. He'd managed to ask what would happen to the Impala. He knew that that would be the first thing that Dean asked as soon as he could focus long enough to wonder where his precious car was.

XXXX

Dean felt himself coming back to his body in a painful rush of silence. The tube shoved down his throat was an unpleasant surprise. Along with the burn centered in his chest as his lungs struggled to pull in oxygen. His first thought was where the hell was Sam? Speaking of that where…where the hell was he? It only took a moment for his brain to kick in. _Hospital_. He turned glassy green eyes in the direction of the door. A curtain was pulled around him he started to struggle when he couldn't see anything. The tube pulling in his throat must have set off several alarms, because the next thing he knew two nurses were pushing him back into the bed. He struggled against them, but in his weakened condition? He wasn't able to do much.

A sudden movement near the door had him tossing his eyes in that direction. Sam limped in, his eyes growing as he saw the men holding his brother against the white cotton sheets. "NO! Stop it. He doesn't understand…" They looked over at him, but didn't release Dean's struggling form. "He's deaf you idiots!" Suddenly understanding seemed to dawn on them both and they instantly released Dean. He sagged against the bed and gagged on the intubation tube. "Get that the hell outta him."

"Sir, he has advanced Pneumonia. He needs that tube to breathe." The man in the ugly green scrubs said.

Sam knew that the man was trying to placate him…and he was probably right. But the look of terror in his brother's eyes in that moment when he'd stepped into the room had been awful. He never wanted to see something like that in Dean's eyes again.

Dean's gaze shifted as the nurses switched from trying to incapacitate him to helping him. They sat him up, careful of his shoulder. He felt his world tip dangerously as he got dizzy and struggled to remain upright. "Blow out all the air as I pull the tube…on three. One, two…three"

The air that was in his lungs was forced out and he found himself coughing violently as he struggled to control his body's reaction. He saw Sam limp forward, his face a mask of concern. Dean finally sank back against the pillows and took a shallow breath. His gaze flickered over to Sam and he forced a slight smile when he saw Bobby step around his brother. He nodded at both the members of his family. He reached up with his good hand and his fingers closed around his amulet and he pulled in a relieved breath. He looked back over at Sam and Bobby and smiled slightly.

"Merry Christmas, brother." Sam said as he limped forward.

* _Merry Christmas, little brother. * _Dean signed. His gaze flickering between Sam and over to Bobby's smiling face.

"Glad you made it, kid." He said gruffly.

They still hadn't found their father, but at least they were together…and for now that was enough.

THE END

**Author's Note:** _Hope you guys like this little fiction. It was rattling around and there are probably more of them where this came from. Thanks to every one that reviewed, read, favorited, or followed. I never intended this to go longer than 10 chapters. I am working on something in a Deaf!Dean verse. But it will be completely separate from this whole storyline. Hope you guys enjoyed reading._

_Please Review: I'd like to know what you think of the end. _


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